Dave Ramsey Would Disapprove

Let me start off by saying- I love Dave Ramsey. I have read some of his books, follow him on Instagram, and use the EveryDollar app to track my budget. I love how he’s not afraid to talk about his faith and encourages others to pay tithes/give ten percent to charity. That being said, I don’t agree with a few things.

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Celebrating Our Strengths

I was listening to some beautiful instrumental music when I suddenly had the longing to create my own masterpiece. The problem is, I don’t know a thing about writing music. The same thing happens when I see a stunning piece of art, a moving dance, or hear an angelic soprano. I am not an artist, dancer, or singer (although I do love to sing)… I am a writer. I could get down on myself and long to do those things which I have no talent for, or I could embrace those things which I am good at. Today, I choose to celebrate!

Keeping Hope Alive

The weather forecast calls for temperatures in the 80s and 90s this week. The kids and I are going camping with our church this weekend. People are still swimming and taking their boats out on the lake. But I can tell winter is coming.

The leaves on the tree outside my bedroom window started turning from green to red a couple weeks ago. Many of them have already fallen to the ground. The night air is too crisp to sleep with the window open, and my feet are cold against the kitchen floor in the morning. The kids have started back to school, and I was starting to lose hope in my dreams for this year.

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God Didn’t Ask

God didn’t ask me if I wanted to be alive during the circus that is 2020. He didn’t ask me if I wanted my husband to go to prison or if I wanted to lose my house. He didn’t ask if I wanted boys or girls when I was pregnant. He didn’t ask my friend if he wanted cancer. He didn’t ask my coworker if she wanted a special needs child. He didn’t ask hurricane victims if they wanted their houses destroyed. He didn’t ask that couple if they wanted to struggle with infertility. He didn’t ask any of us.

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Angry with God

A lot has happened in the month since I last wrote. My stepmother died a few days ago. She was married to my father for 38 years–since I was three. Together, they raised five children who gave them twelve grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren. And yet she died without a single family member by her side.

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