For many, the handwritten note or letter is a thing of the past. Why would we take the time to sit down with pen and paper when it’s much quicker to log onto the computer?
However, I enjoy giving handwritten notes of encouragement and support. The feedback I receive tells me the personal touch is appreciated.
Mistakes made with ink on paper are not easily erased and corrections made on the page can look messy. In these cases, I turn to a solution made popular in the last century!
It is called whiteout. The fluid comes in a small bottle with a brush and all I have to do is cover over the error with the liquid and wait for a few seconds for it to dry. Then I can carry on as if the mistake never happened.
That might be the idea but often I either apply either too little, leaving the mistake to show through, or too much, leaving a bumpy surface that’s difficult to write on. This magic eraser also comes in a tape form which I have never been able to master. The result is my mistakes don’t always disappear as I’d like them to.
I know of something that completely blots out the big mistakes in my life. It leaves me fresh and clean and able to start over again. What is this magic formula? It is called forgiveness of my sins. I don’t have to shop for this in the store or wonder how to apply it properly. All I need is to sincerely come to God in prayer, confess my sins, and repent. God promises to forgive and give me a fresh start. I can think of no better way to get rid of my mistakes.
God is faithful and reliable. If we confess our sins, he forgives them and cleanses us from everything we’ve done wrong, (1 John 1:9 GWT)
What is the first thing you think of when you hear the word cactus? For me, it is the thorns. These spiky protrusions keep me from wanting to get too close for risk of injury.
Mother’s Day has come and gone for another year. How did you celebrate it? It is about so much more than flowers, meals out or extravagant gifts. As a mother, these were not my focus.
The germ of an idea had come to me and I was determined to write about it. Words didn’t flow as I had hoped so I put it aside for the morning.
n the trees and flower stalks were emerging from the earth.
Charles Swindoll, in his book The Finishing Touch, recalled starting his ministry in California.
Over the past year or so I’ve been hearing quite a bit about a sport called pickleball. Some of you may be familiar with it but until recently it was new to me.
“What an unusual cactus,” I said. “Look how soft and fuzzy it is at the top.”
After what seemed like the winter that wouldn’t end, we are finally experiencing spring weather. The snow has melted in all but a few sheltered spots and the sunshine and warmer temperatures are drawing people out of their houses.
As a child, I loved to play outside with my friends. One of our favourite games was tag.
“Next, we’re going to do something called the conga.” It didn’t take long before I figured out this wasn’t a fun dance the exercise instructor was referring to.