More Than Mended Archives - SheilaKCampbell.com

God With Us

As I gaze out my kitchen windows while the morning sun begins to inch above the trees on the eastern horizon, I am touched by the melody and the words of Into the Silent Night. As I linger in the morning light that streams through my kitchen windows on this December morning and let the words of this song fill me, I think of the words of Isaiah, “….She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God is with us’). God is WITH us! He is with me, and He is with you too!

Encouragement

We don’t always know how our words impact others, but they have worth and power. Simple acts of kindness and friendship may be the encouragement someone else needs to believe in themselves.

Greater Than Our Hearts

don’t understand myself. I want to do what is right but do what I hate. I felt regret for not speaking up, struggled with emotions, and prayed for clarity. Despite our heart’s deception, we find worth and grace through God’s love, which understands us better than we do.

A Season of Summer

It is a beautiful summer evening, reminiscent of many others: summer evenings in my childhood spent playing on green summer lawns, the breeze flowered with the sweet smell of honeysuckle; summer evenings in my teen years spent perched on the top rail of the fence gazing dreamily at the serene West Texas sunset; and summer evenings in the field sitting on the tailgate of a pickup listening to the drone of an irrigation motor, the lapping of water in the ditch, and the laughter of small boys as they tossed dirt clods into the water.

More Than Mended – a book title?

The Inception of a Name A friend recently asked me what I would title the book I’m currently writing. I told him I had struggled

He Came

Incarnation, such a big word, and we seem to hear it at Christmas more than any other time of the year. But what does it really mean? While Christmas is a time to enjoy family and friends, for many it is also a time when the absence of loved ones is acutely felt. And yet, there amid human suffering and loss, He came.

Unwept Tears

Recently, as I was cleaning up some files, I came across a post I used in August of 2012. I remembered the post and I knew pieces of it came from a journal entry I wrote a year earlier. But reading this post anew this week, I thought, “I could have written this last week!” Allowing myself to cry is still a struggle for me. I still stifle my tears and refuse to let them fall. But in this post, I find a younger version of myself speaking to my heart today and reminding me once more that tears are a gift.

A Summer Sorrow

As August arrives, I know the season. I feel the heaviness begin to settle on my heart before I know the date on the calendar. Even while the heat of a summer sun still bears down on me, I feel it in the breeze that rustles the Johnson grass with its Auburn seeded heads towering on either side of the road. And I see it as I drive past rows of bushy, green cotton, and shaded rows of tall, tasseled corn. I know the season and my heart once more remembers and grieves the long-ago loss of my comical, red-headed, inquisitive little boy. For many years I tried to ignore and minimize this grief, but there is a sweetness in the remembering.

Singing in the Dark

I step outside in the dark of predawn. Sunrise is still well over an hour away, and yet as I step out and look up in wonder at the star filled sky – a black canvas dotted with billions of pinholes of light – the music of morning plays all around me, and yet, it is still dark. I pause for just a moment to listen and wonder how the birds know that dawn is near. And how can we know when dawn is near and the heavy burdens of life will lighten – at least for a season? Perhaps like the birds, we don’t know, but I’m wondering, can we sing in the dawn even while it is still dark?

Anchored in the Waves

Several years ago, some dear friends treated our family to a trip to Galveston. I loved watching the waves roll in, I loved walking on the beach at sunset with my friend, I loved watching my children play in the waves, I loved swimming with the dolphins in the ocean.
But I hate to get my head wet. I hate the feel of water in my eyes, ears, and nose. Sometimes life too can feel like being dunked into cold water. I was reminded of this trip on a cold April morning as I was struggling to keep my head above water.

Category: More Than Mended