by Karla Hein
Vacuuming has been a test of my obedience lately. “Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure ‘children of God’” (Philippians 2:14–15). I sometimes wish my husband and I hadn’t given our kids a CD of scriptures set to music because this verse’s catchy rhythm keeps bouncing around in my head, driving me to conviction. Continue reading Vacuuming to Victory
by Karla Hein
I would be lying to deny that the health and economic crisis of the last few months hasn’t been weighing on my mind. My husband and I contemplated the uncertain future as we got ready for bed last night and pulled the covers up. My brow furrowed as I lay quiet, unable to shake the pressure I felt. But then I remembered a jar of peanut butter. The jar that taught me a lesson about the heavenly Father’s care. Continue reading A Lesson From the Peanut Butter Jar
by Karla Hein
During this Advent season, I never thought Mary and I had much in common. In one supernatural encounter, she accepts the honour of bearing the Messiah (Luke 1:29-38). I relate better to someone like Gideon putting out a fleece or two, making certain of God’s calling (Judges 6:36-40). Continue reading Relinquishing the Impossible
by Karla Hein
As I’ve been sharing my faith lately, I’ve noticed my conversations have been focused on the profound peace of an all-knowing, powerful God and the assuring hope of my future with Christ. That’s attractive truth in a culture where insecurity about one’s identity and fear of disaster weighs heavy. However, I’ve started to wonder if marketing Christianity as attractive to unbelievers can result in tickling ears rather than delivering truth (2 Tim. 4:1-5). Have I made the by-products of salvation the primary focus because it’s easier to explain than the theology of repentance and faith in Christ? Continue reading Thoughts on Salvation
by Karla Hein
I used to think I was a calm, rational person. Then I met me, the mother of two preschoolers. My delusion shattered. I’m a nice person…the first time I have to wrestle dancing feet into a pair of jeans. Tell me to potty train a small human and my “good mommy” persona starts to slip. Most days my words are less than inspirational. Dirty dishes ferment on the counter; toys are scattered in every room. My husband comes home from a busy work day to hyper kids and a frazzled wife. Continue reading Musings from a Momma
