House of Hope Makes Progress

Someone’s doing something good. Right here in rural Minnesota. This is a story in progress. Hope is forging ahead.

Olivia's House of Hope logo

If you remember my post about Janine Kramer, founder of Olivia’s House of Hope, you’ll be excited to know the House is moving forward toward its goal of supporting women in transition to a better life.

Thursday, January 19, 2017, their Open House runs from 9:00am to 5:00pm, at 212  26th Street South in Olivia, Minnesota. I intend to go see how far they’ve come.

Interested? Learn more about the event on their Facebook page.

And thank God there is a whole lot of hope for women ready to leave the past behind.


Bridge Across the Silence: Reaching Out to Refugees

A guest post by Brenda Weatherly.

Brenda Weatherly with Little Girl

For the past two-and-a-half years, I have been actively involved in assisting refugees as they adjust to this strange new land, the United States. This is not always easy, especially when there is a language barrier. Most of the women I have met do not know English. How can I build a friendship with a woman who has endured horrific hardships when there are no words we can exchange? Continue reading

From a Little Kitchen With Great Love

Jola Johnson will tell you it started with an inner prompting to “do something.”

But I suspect it began with a compassionate heart, already open to a remarkable God.

Jola’s friends, family, and neighbors can all tell you that she loves to help. And for needs beyond her physical reach, she prays. Hard. She stations reminders to pray everywhere.  There’s the portrait of a beautiful little Cameroonian girl on her dining room wall. There’s the bracelet she wears from Voice of the Martyrs. And there are the endless social media and news report streams she pores over to keep her prayers current.

Jola Johnson in Her Kitchen

But one day, she couldn’t stop at praying. She “just knew” there was something more to be done that day. But what? How? And for whom, in particular? It was a puzzle, and she was only holding one piece. Continue reading

Love’s Preemptive Strike

Hospital Hands of Love
“Well, of course I should love my neighbor.”

You can almost see the lawyer glance away from Jesus, hear him clear his throat as he thinks his way toward a loophole. Ah, he thinks, I’ve found it. His beard nearly concealing his smug smile, the lawyer asks, “But who is my neighbor?”

Slowly and completely Jesus cinches the loophole tightly closed as He unfurls the story of the Good Samaritan. To Jesus’ Jewish audience, however, “good” and “Samaritan” had never belonged in the same sentence. Samaritans were not neighbors. They were enemies—ethnically and religiously.

Maybe you have neighbors like that, too. Continue reading