Purposeful Womanhood

 By Jessica Edwards     There she was. All I could see were her shoulders and head sticking out of the dumpster. I sat in my car taking pictures for proof and glaring at her in my assumption she had been unloading her trash into the dumpster without permission. See, it's not unusual for people to unload their trash debris into my husband's dumpster because it sits in an obscure place behind his office. It wasn't until minutes later after she had driven away and I really looked at the pictures I had taken, I realized something. She wasn't placing garbage in the dumpster, she was taking food out of the dumpster. I then thought “how dare she steal our trash!” and my anger intensified. Why was that woman digging in the dumpster? I don't know. I didn't ask. Why was that woman getting food out of the dumpster? I don't know. I didn't ask. Did she need help physically? Emotionally? I don't know. I didn't ask. Wow. For several years, I have be...

by Princy Edwards        Growing up, I gradually went from thinking “eww, boys have cooties!” to “oh, boys are handsome!”. However, I started to become “boy crazy” like most young girls do. I remember spending so much of my time hoping for a boyfriend and fantasizing of becoming Mrs. so and so. Only to beat myself down and throw myself pity parties because no boy wanted me. I felt as undesirable as can be! It didn’t click to me that boys were not the answer until many years later. Who was the answer I was looking for then?  The Answer was Jesus  The summer before my junior year of college, God softened my heart and started to work in me. He showed me that my “boy crazy” mentality was wrong, and that I needed a “Christ centered” mentality. As a child of God, I am called to glorify Him in all that I do. So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. 1 Cor 10:31 ESV He needed to be the center of my life in order f...

By Andrea Eliasson    The moment struck me out of the blue. These moments sneak up on me when I least expect them. I was making my college-aged son’s bed (yes, I still do that occasionally) when I noticed his calendar. It wasn’t the year, month, or day that I noticed, it was the position of where the calendar hung. It was in the same place where I hung it sixteen years ago. It was just the right height for a six-year-old little boy to cross off each day with his little crayon. This moment was just another reminder that my job is almost over. The job that I have had for the past twenty-five years. The job that has given me my identity, or so I thought. Before my husband and I married, I expressed to him my desire to be a stay-at-home mom if we were to have children. My husband honored my wish, and I quit my job a week before my first child was born. For the past twenty-five years, I have been caring for my family and homeschooling my children. I identified as a...