Year: 2017
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 16, 2017
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 15, 2017
There is something intimate about entering someone’s home and sharing a meal together. Jesus desires intimacy with us, His own creation. He is knocking, waiting, longing for us to open the door of our heart, to let Him in, to share our personal lives with Him. I once heard a…
Living By Faith…Even If
by Barb Gareis During Sunday school, I sat in the little wooden chair in my floral-printed sundress. With my head bowed, eyes closed, and hands folded in my lap, I repeated this prayer, “Jesus, I know I’m a sinner. I’m sorry for my sin. Please forgive me. I know…
Happy Mother’s Day 2017 May 14
Living By Faith, Being a Friend – May 13, 2017
Poetry in the Rice Fields
By Kimberly Rae Kim Thigpen’s note to me when she sent this article for ProverbWise on May 5, 2017: Whenever I read this, I think of Uncle Joe. That note you sent me way back in 1998 about him reading it in church and tearing up, those first weeks I…
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 12, 2017
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 11, 2017
Living By Faith, Being a Friend – May 10, 2017
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 16, 2017
Living By Faith, Being A Friend – May 15, 2017
There is something intimate about entering someone’s home and sharing a meal together. Jesus desires intimacy with us, His own creation. He is knocking, waiting, longing for us to open the door of our heart, to let Him in, to share our personal lives with Him. I once heard a…
Living By Faith…Even If
by Barb Gareis During Sunday school, I sat in the little wooden chair in my floral-printed sundress. With my head bowed, eyes closed, and hands folded in my lap, I repeated this prayer, “Jesus, I know I’m a sinner. I’m sorry for my sin. Please forgive me. I know…
Happy Mother’s Day 2017 May 14
Living By Faith, Being a Friend – May 13, 2017
Poetry in the Rice Fields
By Kimberly Rae Kim Thigpen’s note to me when she sent this article for ProverbWise on May 5, 2017: Whenever I read this, I think of Uncle Joe. That note you sent me way back in 1998 about him reading it in church and tearing up, those first weeks I…
