Thursday, November 23, 2017

Mambui's Teacup


by Danetta Kellar

The pattern was Old Country Roses by Royal Albert. 

My delicate, fine bone china teacup and saucer were the most lovely items I possessed in the little mud house. We had left our finery behind a year before to move to the remote bush of East Africa to work with the Aduruma tribe.

A friend had brought the teacup and saucer back to me from a trip home to England, and I treasured it. 

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Brian's Gift

For Brian and all who loved him.

by Danetta Kellar
@DanettaKellar

His favorite Christmas song was The Little Drummer Boy

And like the little drummer in the song, Brian Elbertson brought his gift to the King, and made Him smile.

This is the story of a gift of unexpected gratitude, given long before its recipients ever became aware. This is an incredible tale of how grace begins to grow before we even know it, and one day shocks us with its beauty.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Extraordinary Miracles

This month I am featuring stories where gratitude has come from unexpected places. Today's story has grown my faith as I have watched it unfold, and I know it will yours, too. #unexpectedgratitudestories

Guest post by Libby McCraw

When I married 26 years ago, I assumed that our married life would follow an ordinary path:  marriage, babies and “happy ever after.”  

I had not considered the fact that God may have an extraordinary path planned for me.  I had not considered that our “happy ever after” may include some dark times that would require me to trust in Him to get me through.  

Thursday, November 2, 2017

The Pearl

God has promised us riches out of darkness, treasures out of secret places. It is this unexpected gratitude in life’s difficult passages that reveals our Lord most clearly. He is the One who calls you and I by name, the One who knows us. Join me this month as I share true stories of gratitude found in unexpected places.

by Danetta Kellar

Deep in the dark ocean, inside the silence of a mollusk shell, an accident occurs. 

A minuscule intruder makes its way into the unsuspecting host, creating an irritation that leads to the formation of a protective sac, called the pearl sac. For protection from the violating bacteria, the mollusk repeatedly pumps the sac with pure calcium carbonate and conchiolin. This reaction to pain creates one of nature’s most exquisite and sought-after gems, the pearl.

Suffering and sorrow can bury the human soul deeper than the darkness of any ocean floor. 

The loss of a child can drown one in such deep pain that no light can be seen. At least for a time.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Healthy, Happy People Set Boundaries

by Danetta Kellar

“Please confirm that you no longer wish to receive valuable, money-saving coupons and time-saving promotions from our sponsor…”

This was the message I received one day as I sought to unsubscribe to a retailer which had been sending inordinate amounts of email advertisements to my inbox every day. At the end of the school year, I had over 3,000 messages piled up from all sorts of good, but unnecessary, places. 

Thursday, October 19, 2017

The Lamplight of Decision

by Danetta Kellar


Psalm 119:105  Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

When darkness fell our first night in the remote bush country of Kenya, I was prepared. 

The lanterns were full of kerosene, flashlights of various sizes were fresh with new American batteries, and candles lay all in a row on the table, beside them a box of matches sealed nice and dry in a tightly closed jar. I was ready for the inky blackness.

Snug in our little mud house, we felt safe from the darkness as long as there was a source of light. 

That is, unless we had to venture outside for any reason. With the descending dusk also fell a helpless feeling of entrapment. 

Thursday, October 12, 2017

The Lesson of the Creek

by Danetta Kellar

I never tire of sitting by the roaring waters of the creek that winds around two sides of our family cabin. 

Built by my uncle when I was a small child, the refuge represents years of family gatherings. Folks have come and gone over the decades, but the flowing of the creek has never ceased.

In all my years of watching its waters, I have never seen them flow uphill. 

Down, down, down they go, singing all the way. Mossy boulders lie strewn about as if a giant was interrupted in a game of marbles and left them scattered. But the water finds its way around them, even changing the surface of the rocks, smoothing their rough sharp edges.