The hike promised amazing views of the Maine coastline. That sounded good to me! To get to the trail we first crossed a beautiful beach cove, took some pictures and stepped on the trail heading up. My husband, Dave and I were on vacation last week celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary, and Acadia National Park was one of our stops. We have hiked many mountain trails over the years. Usually I enjoy the process of getting to the intended view, but this time I just wanted to get there! The trail was labeled moderate, and I guess the other side was–but not the side we started on. There was a lot of climbing and heaving yourself up rocks. It has been a few years since I have hiked even a small mountain trail, and my 50-year-old joints were complaining.

This week, millions of Americans will feel the pinch of the IRS on April 15th, if they haven’t already, while several politicians are slated to join the 2016 campaign field. No doubt both topics will come up at the water cooler in passing small talk, despite the old adage which says it’s impolite to talk about sex, politics and money. I often have sensed the awkward tension surrounding these culturally taboo topics.

Our cupboards were bare. I had just fed Hannah the heel on a loaf of bread with a small smidgen of peanut butter scraped from the bottom of the jar. I was avoiding it…a trip to Costco. We were on the brink of nap time so I knew the risks as I loaded Norah (7 months old) into the carrier and Hannah (age 2) in the large section of the cart. “I’ll just run in and out in 30 minutes,” I said to myself as I gently tried to calm the part of myself that was overtaken by anxiety.

I’ve never been a man. That’s a pretty indisputable fact. I have found myself wondering often, though, what it is like to live in a man’s skin. I used to make gross assumptions based on cultural stereotypes and snide remarks from angry women, but I have come to realize those are pretty poor representations of men. Actually, seeing all men the same is a pretty poor representation. I would never tell someone to base their understanding of all women just by knowing me – that would be ludicrous!

I didn’t grow up in a liturgical church, so a few years ago when friends started talking about Advent, I felt a little lost. Little did I know, I was already on a journey that would put me right in a church that is highly liturgical–in the Anglican tradition. That in itself is a story for another day, but the point is that the church calendar has been gaining a lot of significance in my life.

My work hours have changed this fall. Instead of a random part-time schedule set by me, I am working full-time, Monday through Friday. This has changed my weekend experience significantly! I have found that physically I am not too worn out, but rather, mentally and emotionally I am depleted.

Last week, my brother sent me an email with a link to a sermon by Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City. It may not seem odd that a brother would email his sister a sermon, but it may strike some people that the sermon was about sex or, more specifically about “Love and Lust” referencing Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5:27-30. To provide a little context: my brother and I are five years apart in age and we are both single. Over the past year or so, we have begun to open up to each other about the differences in being single as male and female, and in different stages of life. He had gleaned a lot from this sermon, so he shared it with me in hopes that I would be able to benefit as well.

It is quite amazing how even happy couples can sometimes see things so differently. I was reminded of this just the other day, when my husband and I were selecting paint for the living room of our new home. Or perhaps I should say trying to select paint.

I’m behind the times. Hashtags aren’t a natural part of my vocabulary and I don’t typically peruse “trending topics” in my social media newsfeed, yet recently I stumbled upon a mother’s heartfelt letter as I clicked my way through a shared article on Facebook.

This month Sarah Born joined our team after graduating from Reformed Theological Seminary. She lives in the Lake Nona area and has a heart to provide soul care in this growing area of Central Florida. I had a chance to ask her a few questions so you can get to know her more.

I have never met anyone who did not find C.S. Lewis to be one of the most prolific writers to span generations. Even if you don’t agree with him, he will make you think, laugh, cry, and ponder the very essence of who we are and what we were meant to do, both in this world and in the next. Lewis’ quote comparing us as humans to ignorant children slapping together mud pies is one of my favorites, and it also describes, in a nutshell, my beliefs about counseling. The main reason I am so passionate about what I do is that I have experienced healing and redemption through counseling as well.

My 2-year-old daughter, Hannah, already has two boyfriends (cute now, not so cute in about 10 years)! When she sees them, she lights up. A morning full of meltdowns with mommy instantly changes to a glorious day of smiles and laughs in their presence. Bryce and Xander are their names, and in the first two years of their lives they have seen each other multiple times a week. When it’s been a few days without a play date, you’re bound to hear Hannah say something like “I want Bryce.”

I enjoy jewelry. I especially like big, chunky and colorful necklaces that add a pop of color to my outfits. But one of my favorite and most meaningful pieces is not big or chunky or colorful but is rather small and doesn’t make much of a statement. It is a 1”x1” picture of red flowers on branch hung on a simple wire loop.

We have all been there. We’ve said something we regret, made a thoughtless comment, or behaved badly. Afterward, the memory of our reproachable behavior rolls around in our heads in an unrelenting, repetitive loop. In an effort to alleviate our shame, we rework the event to create a different imaginary ending, a better ending—any ending other than the one we chose. But it does no good. We are buried under a landslide of guilt and appalled in the face of our profound failure.

We are very excited to be adding Dave Stelling to our team of therapists at Redeemer Counseling. Dave has a vast array of experience in ministry and counseling. In 2004, he graduated from Reformed Theological Seminary with his Master’s degree in Counseling. Last week, I asked Dave a few questions so you can hear more of his heart.

Lately I find myself being “that woman” in public. That woman whose life seems a mess, and you either feel pity for her or wonder why she can’t get it together. That woman with a crying baby in one arm and the contents of her purse falling out in the other. That woman who looks like she hasn’t showered in a few days (and probably hasn’t).

I awoke this morning to a horrible story in the news about a man who was swallowed by a sinkhole that opened beneath his bedroom before dawn while he slept. The interview with his brother who tried to rescue him was heartbreaking. The man could not be saved. His brother recounted the scene—the screams from within the vanishing earth, and the desperate, futile clawing at the soil and debris. I can hardly think of a more terrifying way to die, or to see one die.

The other day I took my daughter to the park. While on the swings, I noticed the arrival of a father with his two children, a girl around 8 years old and her brother a few years younger. The kids excitedly ran to the swing set. It was a different story for the dad, however. He sat on a bench mostly talking on his cell phone. His body language clearly communicated he didn’t want to be there. I could tell the boy really wanted to play with his dad. The more the boy asked his dad to play, the more irritable the father became. Eventually, the boy stopped asking.

Take a moment to think about a seed. What comes to mind? Maybe you think of how it symbolizes the birth of a great idea. You may have a memory of a toothpick-pierced avocado pit sprouting from a cup in your kitchen window. The parable of the mustard seed may pop into your mind. Or, if you just ate a poppy-seed bagel, there is a good chance you are wondering if you successfully sucked all the tiny black specks out of your teeth.

A 2006 Time magazine poll reports that women own an average of 27 pairs of shoes, and men own an average of 12 pairs. In our house, it is 23 and 5 respectively. Is it just a coincidence that most women have more pairs of shoes than men, or is there something to this? I believe this small feature of our wardrobes can provide a glimpse into the magnificent glory of God that’s present in women.