snippets of thought


catching thoughts

catching thoughts


Saturday morning dawns like a secret weapon in the middle of a heartstopping video game. Here at the completion of a whirlwind 9 day journey that left 3 sweet girls waiting at home and 1 young woman starting a new life across the ocean, with the bank account at zero and the school year set to ‘go’ and the house in shambles, just for a second Saturday morning with the scent of Fall on her breath beckons. I willingly hit PAUSE.

memories of the Black Sea

memories of the Black Sea


Sending a child away to college is much like making an old fashioned quilt. I do not mean a new, designer creation with planned color-blocks that you find at Pottery Barn. But, rather, the old kind that grandma hand-stitched from the remnants of her sewing box. The denim from the days when her boy searched for frogs and came back muddy. Lace from her baby-girl’s Sunday baptism dress. Soft, worn, pilly plaid from her husband’s work shirt. All pieced together with an uncoordinated, unplanned, mixture of heartbreak and pride and sewn together with the tears of parenthood.

it's a journey

it’s a journey


College is a precious opportunity to grow into the person God created you to be. Do not waste it on learning facts. Study how to become the person God made you to be. Begin today.

Paul Restaurant

airports = yes. airplanes = no.


THE 17-hours on three airplanes that you are convinced will lose a wing, an engine, or be struck by lightening because humans were not made to fly. And, the corny sense of humor of a faithful Creator who gives you a job that requires you to fly so that you can learn to say, ‘God is good all of the time.’

ready. set. go

ready. set. go


The feeling that comes AFTER you complete a run.


That feeling you have as you pull on your sneakers BEFORE the run.

windows of insight

windows of insight


Digging into literature with students and finding treasures of insight and connectivity.


Our entryway – welcome everybody.


Home again and cuddled into the busy craziness of family life and challenging ministry and puppy shenanigans and welcome guests, and cooking and cleaning. The heart-racing, heart-stopping, insanity of life at video-game pace.


Bring it!

Hit Play. The blog resumes with stories from the field of mission that is our home sweet home.

Jesus Saves





how beautiful are the feet

how beautiful are the feet

Soon. Too soon. These feet will carry them far away from the hands that caught them when their feet were learning to walk.

Seniors. Senior girls. Getting ready to face the world.

What do they need to know? What have we forgotten to instill in them? Teach them?

How do we celebrate these last months before they become part of a new world?

Where will they spend their first Thanksgiving?

Will there be money for them to fly home at Christmas?

How will they handle those first moments and months of culture shock, when the country that gave them their passport, the name by which they reference themselves is profoundly foreign?

Packing up your life to go to college on the other side of the ocean is a daunting task, daughter.

What does a missionary mom tell her baby girl while her feet are still planted at home?

Go with Jesus.

Walk with Jesus.

Hold onto Jesus.

Trust Jesus.

Because I cannot be there to walk that road with you. God has planted me here. He is carrying you there. We will trust him together across this wide ocean.

A day in the life of a missionary mom seems to teach me a lot about letting go of the most precious part of my life and trusting her to Jesus.


third-culture thoughts


On the streets of Budapest as thousands of Hungarians remember the Soviet invasion of 1956.

It wrapped its arms around my head and pulled as the revolving door spit me into its dim realm. As the days and years passed, the not unpleasant but pungently earthy smell would become a reminder that I had left the sphere of one world and entered an inner sanctum; a sub-world, if you will, where people carried their burdens in speeding bullets of dark passages. The Moscow metroFresh air became redefined and distributed with the whoosh of 150 kilometer per hour measurements and the multiplication of bodies sharing a tiny compartment. 

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tiger mom

The clouds let go of a gush of tears as my baby left the car tonight. My wipers worked their rhythmic magic, a pulsating synchronization of my mother’s heart. In a few short months, she will leave for college. What is this ripping of ligament from bone that slashes at my tiger soul? It is the precursor to a thousand sleepless nights of wondering where she lays her head, how much sleep she gets, and what concerns worry her brow. Seventeen years of cinching car seats and looking both ways culminate in a kiss goodbye as she hops into a car of teens. Soon, too soon, she will board a plane that carries her far, too far, from my mother’s arms.

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the real story on being an mk

The road on furlough can sometimes be exhausting. It is not always the respecter of age nor is it terribly concerned with yesterday’s equally hectic schedule. Today and tomorrow are such days. We traveled and did two services on Sunday, arriving at the hotel at 11at night. This morning,we were up by 6 for meetings at 8 and back at the hotel at 11 again. The girls babysat all day while we were in meetings. Tomorrow, we have another early and long day.

Please do not hear a complaint here. It does not exist. I love our M-life and I believe the girls do too. That said, I want to be authentic in my communications. Sometimes, the travel and the demands are just plain exhausting.

The up-side is that our 4 girls get to help with the EurAsia registration for the next two days. Imagine what that says to them about their value and identity as the global church entrusts into their hands a job that helps this great, Nazarene event occur.

Missionary kids on furlough take away a huge understanding of what it means to give to the church abundantly and also to receive from the church abundantly (and I do not necessarily mean just financially).

As our Nazarene family begins to descend upon Indy, I want to say how thankful I am that The Lord and the Church have given our family the opportunity to serve as missionaries. While sometimes achingly exhausting and demanding, we truly would not choose any other life for our 4 Sunberg girls.

See you in Indy at the EurAsia Regional exhibit!