Being overly sensitive to sound is a sign of creative genius. Research suggests that those who are extremely sensitive to sound might find it easier to think creatively because they’re able to focus on a wide range of things simultaneously. Now, I’m not a creative genius, but I am very sensitive to sound—particularly the sound of our children calling out in the night!
Every year, hundreds of boys aged 3 to 8 play rugby in a tournament held across South Africa. Though it’s a tamer version of the adult game, children and parents still take it pretty seriously. For this is where a passion is forged for one of the most popular sports in South Africa. Young boys dream of one day playing for the national team. As they get older, however, the competition gets tougher and only the very best will play for the Springboks—the nation’s top squad.
We all have that space in the home we would rather no one see—the messy garage, the cluttered study, or maybe, like me, it’s the yard. There are few things more beautiful than a well-kept lot with lush, perfectly mowed grass, neat hedges, and precision-trimmed roses. Our property’s hedges look more like an overgrown jungle and the grass is patchy and dry. So when our pastor’s wife, Mel, offered to help plant the roses she’d given me, I panicked! I was ashamed of our yard.
Mr. Strong, along with all the Mr. Men children’s books written by Roger Hargreaves, is still a firm favorite in our home. Following a makeover in 2008, Mr. Strong is no longer square; he now has has broader shoulders, a narrower waist, and bulging biceps, but he remains the strongest person in the world. The source of his incredible strength? It comes from all the eggs he eats! The protein in eggs is rich in leucine, an essential amino acid that plays an important role in the way muscles use glucose—contributing to strength, satisfying hunger, and providing a source of lasting energy.
The familiar darkness of clinical depression rolled over Leigh as she sat on the edge of the bed holding a revolver—tormenting voices urging her to pull the trigger. As a Christian wife and mom, she knew this picture was all wrong, but the consuming illness had clouded her mind. Apart from her husband and doctor, no one knew of the daily struggle she faced. Leigh slowly put the gun down, walked out the room, and chose to begin reaching out and sharing her story with others.
In 2013, John and Ann Betar became the oldest known American married couple as they celebrated their 81st wedding anniversary. Their advice on staying happily married includes the following: “Don’t hold a grudge. Forgive each other. Live accordingly,” John advises. And Ann adds, “It is unconditional love and understanding. We have had that. We consider it a blessing.”
I first experienced the beauty of the global body of Christ when I traveled from South Africa to Malaysia as a teacher. In that country, with its varying religions and cultural beliefs, I found a spiritual home away from home. From the moment I stepped into the little church down the road, I was warmly welcomed and treated like family. Thousands of kilometers away from where I grew up, I met people with the same spirit and the same love for Jesus.
Our young daughter has developed the habit of singing whenever I cut her toenails. Her musical expression seems to shift her focus from the instinct to pull her foot away to the joy of happy melodies. Research has proven the physiological, neurological, and emotional benefits of singing. So belting out your favorite tune will help elevate your mood, boost your immune system, and benefit your brain.
The legacy of Lottie Moon lives on more than a hundred years after her death. Originally from the US, she traveled to China as a missionary and later established the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering, which has raised more than $1.5 billion (US) for missions since 1888. Many received salvation in Jesus during her years of ministry, but she endured difficult circumstances in the process. She suffered discrimination as a single woman and also faced illness, famine, and war. Lottie remained resolute, however, as she continued to share the good news and urged others to do the same.
Pastor Adrian and his wife, Antoinette, had two biological sons and then adopted baby Rosie several years ago. For most of Adrian’s life, he has dealt with nose bleeds—an affliction his sons have inherited. One day, little Rosie ran into the house holding her nose and grinning from ear to ear as she said, “See, Daddy, my nose is bleeding—just like Mark and John!” For Rosie, a nosebleed was another way of identifying with her adopted family.
We’re in that sweet season of hope and possibilities. No matter how difficult the year may have been, most of us hope for a better and brighter new year. At the end of last year, I knew I would be juggling my job along with the daunting task of handling the responsibilities of a colleague who was going on maternity leave.
A few years ago I received an email wishing me a happy Christmas. I was grateful for the message and thought nothing more of it until a few weeks later when I reread it. As I reviewed the words more carefully, I realized that I had missed the fact that the email contained a gift voucher with a limited time to redeem it!
Since so many people are desperate for work, I’m grateful for my husband’s job. But his retail work with its agonizingly long hours can be ruthless on a family. Accustomed to evening meals and weekends together, my doing life almost as a single mom has seemed like a very long 4 years. One evening, I was feeling particularly tired and sighed to my father that I didn’t know how to pray anymore. After many years of praying for a breakthrough in his own life, he knew how I felt and encouraged me from God’s Word—renewing my hope and resolve.
The other day our 8-year-old son asked why we no longer put him in the time-out corner. I said it was because that form of discipline no longer worked well. As the twins have gotten older, we’ve had to find new ways to reward and discipline them. Whatever worked when they were 4 years old is no longer effective.
It’s been a tiring week. Filling in for the Breakfast Show radio host meant that I set my alarm for 4:40 each morning, ensuring that I’d be at the radio studios by 5:30. I was looking forward to waking up later on Saturday, but at 4:40 I heard the buzz of an alarm. Annoyed at what I thought was my husband’s alarm, I begged him to turn it off and then realized it was my own alarm blaring its unwelcome wake-up call. I’d forgotten to turn off the alarm the night before and now I lay wide awake, frustrated with myself and embarrassed that I’d blamed my husband for the rude awakening.