For several weeks, as I’ve met with the Lord each morning, I’ve been listening to one of my favorite old hymns, “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood.”
For several weeks, as I’ve met with the Lord each morning, I’ve been listening to one of my favorite old hymns, “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood.”
In January I had the great privilege of visiting Oak Flat, a breathtaking high-desert environment near Tucson, Ariz. I was able to pray at Ga’an Canyon (Angel’s canyon), a place sacred to the San Carlos Apache.
A blog reader asked me to write about the choices and priorities my husband and I are making as parents of a toddler. She had observed some qualities she liked in Plain Mennonite families of her acquaintance and was interested in hearing my perspective on parenting.
The first thing I would like to share is the religious violence women face in the conservative Anabaptist contexts of Latin America. The wounds of violence affect our relationship with God. It was not until my young adulthood that I was truly reconciled to Jesus. Let me tell you a little bit of my story.
