I’ll be the first to admit that our signs are a bit amateurish. Hand-drawn and then carved out. It started simply, marking our woodland trails with driftwood signs. Functional, not fancy. Then our son raised the bar by gifting us carving tools. Suddenly, our rustic signs began to look a little more intentional. We won’t be winning any blue ribbons at the fair—but they are definitely a step up from my old Sharpie pen. Somewhere along the way, I had an idea to make some signs j

I didn’t know that April 24 is recognized as National Bucket List Day—a day meant to nudge us toward setting new goals or finally taking that long-dreamed-of trip—before time slips away. What’s in my bucket? I’ve had a long time to collect things. As a teen, a youth pastor handed me cleaning supplies at summer camp. He said helping others sometimes means doing what no one else wants to do—as I headed off to scrub toilets. That pastor added some purpose to my bucket. I struggl

He had forgotten his sheet music for class and was heading back to the dorm to retrieve it. I had just pushed through the dorm’s double doors, looking straight ahead, my mind on the reading assignment I’d be discussing with my professor. “It’s hard to meet people at Evergreen.” I turned and looked into the eyes of the young, bearded man who had spoken. Though he was built like a football player, his guitar case and long hair gave him a bit of a hippie vibe. He didn’t linger l

I was recently blessed to spend some time with my ninety-six-year-old mother-in-law. I’ve written about her before—her early days as a migrant farm worker and her years as an entrepreneur running a Bible bookstore. In this photo, she’s holding another photo and telling the story behind it. It’s humorous in the way an innocent prank often is. She was fourteen, and she and her cousin thought it would be funny to take the leftover beer from an adult’s can, smear it on their face