Written by . . .
My name is Betsy. I am a child of God, a professor's wife, and a mother of four. We live on the island of Java.
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Author Archives: betsy
Some good friends and I have begun reading Tish Harrison Warren’s Liturgy of the Ordinary together. I started this book because Alex heard about it and bought it on Kindle for me for Valentine’s Day. Someone may think that’s not overly … Continue reading
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night He will bring us goodness and light He will bring us goodness and light (from Do You Hear What I Hear) I think it results from too much early exposure to the … Continue reading
I cleaned out the car yesterday morning. Oddly I remember writing about cleaning the car once before, also on a day when my husband was away, but please don’t feel like this is a regular thing. That was probably the … Continue reading
This was a big question for me before we moved overseas. Truthfully sometimes, in certain seasons, it surfaces again for me. So I have a few thoughts for anyone who might be considering such a move, or a similarly disruptive … Continue reading
We were visiting one of our churches in another country recently and in the post-service swarm we had made it only as far as the lobby. My mind was simultaneously trying to spot several friends I hadn’t seen yet, trying … Continue reading
I’ve been meaning to return to this for some time, as underneath all the turmoil of daily life and its activities there remains my desire to write. It just hangs out under there, poking its head up now and again, … Continue reading
This post is brought to you by the letter A and the number 1440, which is the number of minutes in a day. I’m trying something new right now. I’m really bad at it (shocker) and even when I have … Continue reading
For all of the wise women in my life. And especially for Mom. With love and gratitude. When Norah was about a year old we were living in “Merica, that vast land of enormous supermarkets and jumbo shopping carts. I … Continue reading