While I was driving the other day, Emeth chirped in the backseat about how the leaves of autumn made him feel like we were "living insi...

I am indebted to my parents for teaching me to pray as a child. When I was five or six, I was given the all important responsibility to pray...

My dear boys, I read this book to you last night. You were very nice and soft to cuddle. When I read it as a little girl, I thought th...

Hans told Emeth the other day that being a missionary is better than being a doctor. Instead of heartily agreeing with my husband, my mind...

Here is my answer to another favorite question from my single friends: "How do I know whether this person is the one for me ?" F...

Hanan, who has been fairly quiet in the past two years, suddenly decides it is time to start talking. He has been telling us about the littl...

My children cry, a lot. We tell them to stop. Big boys don't cry. But -- Jesus cried. The manliest man wept. The king of glory groaned...

When God walked among us, Jesus loved children. He was always patient, always kind. They often interrupted and asked a lot of questions an...

I always have something to prove. It is a disease. A bad habit. I want people to think certain things about me, as though I can control thei...

In our house, a house where there are two seminary students, Bibles are as common as bananas. Years ago, I watched a video of Christians g...

...the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul... (1 Samuel 18:1) Behold, how ...

When Hans was my gentleman-friend , our long-distance "dates" would at times include lengthy readings from Jonathan Edwards' t...

I love snow. I lost my key, again . This time, we did not find it. It is still out there, somewhere. Buried in the snow. It must h...

Yohanan had diarrhea earlier this week. In those two days, I must have washed him every other hour. The poor boy was feverish at night. My l...

At the breakfast table this morning, Emeth composed his first poem. Chubby little fingers, Chubby little toes, Chubby little winter on H...

{On the sixth anniversary of his proposal} Six years ago, Hans flew to New Haven. There, he mopped my floor and asked me to ma...

{in remembrance of the children in the African drought} The sink was full of dirty dishes. Books covered our floor like ill-fitted paveme...

The world was waiting for fireworks last night. Well, the world in the US of A. It was the fourth of July. At about 9 p.m. Hans heard the ...

{the story of Yohanan's birth} The stars sang the night my contraction began. We had been waiting for weeks, though in reality it was ...