I once had a boyfriend who, unknown to me at that time, was a sociopath. No matter what I did or said, it just made things worse. God led me to a book by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “The Cost of Discipleship.” Dietrich was a Christian pastor who was killed for opposing Hitler. In it, he wrote, […]
Author: cwj
We live and die by our thoughts
When I was in outpatient treatment for alcohol and drugs, I was given some pamphlets on Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy (REBT) created by Albert Ellis and Aaron Beck. Even in my fog-like state, it made a difference. Years later, still battling anxiety and depression, I was led to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy started by Dr. David […]
“And {s}he will stand for the Lord is able to make {her} stand.” (Romans 14.4, NKJV)
In thinking about my life, if I look at it from one angle, it looks pretty bad. I’m a widow with no children, few friends, no male companion, estranged from a seriously dysfunctional family, and I work at a job where I don’t really fit in. I walk this world as a disciple for Jesus, […]
The most important thing I did as a caregiver
When I first found Jesus, I didn’t know how to pray personal prayers to Him, and I underestimated the power of praying. My first attempt was just hours after finding Him in a Walmart parking lot. I asked Him to get Jake his new scooter quickly because he could no longer get up the stairs […]
Thursdays at the food bank
Recently, I started going to the food bank at our local mission to supplement my food income. My first time there, a lady with wild, bushy blond hair came jumping out of her SUV and said to me, “If you wait here, I’ll pull out what I don’t need and give you the rest.” I […]
About ‘Campfires with Jesus”
by Mackenzie Garfield {It is not my attention to either encourage or discourage you from going to church. This is just my story.} When I went out into the freezing December night, I wasn’t planning on starting a relationship with God. I was a desperate woman, with a husband deteriorating from MS, seeking hope. I […]
the fires
Why I’m washing dishes as if my life depends on it
I have blood on my hands from the past. How do you get over guilt and . . . grief? How do you move on? One way I have found is the job I’ve had since January. It took twenty-two applications to get it; perhaps because of my age: fifty-four, Covid, or the fact that […]
