To Have & Not Hold

by Randi Peck I sit on my couch, holding my newborn son. My heart feels like it will explode, it is so full. I watch my beautiful daughter enthusiastically swaddle and “shush” her dolly to sleep. I share a glance with my husband that communicates more love than many women receive in an entire lifetime. Our friends have just surprised us with a kitchen full of groceries, to welcome us home from the hospital. I couldn’t be more blessed. And then, my throat begins to tense in anxiety.

When The Numbers Don’t Add Up

by Randi Peck Three bags propped up against my wall serve as a teasing reminder that my life will soon, yet again, be turned upside down. The highlighted box on my calendar stresses that a mere twenty-five days remain until my due date- a date my son will surely scoff and point at, as he passes it by. For whichever day he does decide to christen his birthday, four loads of blue laundry remain to be washed and organized. Thirty-one thank-you cards beg me to mail them before my 18-month-old daughter gets a hold of them with her sparkly crayons. Two hundred dollars worth of groceries need stuffed into our minimal kitchen storage space, preparation for the weeks we will bunker into survival mode. All this for one baby... CLICK ON PHOTO TO KEEP READING...

Ready… Set… Stay!

by Randi Peck What do you imagine complete sanctification looks like? Do visions of white robes, missionaries, and monasteries come to mind? A life lived in isolation, free from Netflix and Twitter, electricity and mortgages? Does being kept blameless consist of selling all our belongings and saying goodbye to our friends and family, in order to live in a third world, mud hut? I suppose I used to think so... CLICK ON PHOTO TO READ MORE...