In C.S. Lewis’ “Chronicles of Narnia” books, there's a scene when
Aslan (the author’s Jesus figure)
says to the little girl Lucy, “every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

Many years ago when I first read that line, I was a fairly new Christian, and the meaning of it pierced my heart.

As I approach the 30th year of my Christian walk, I can honestly say that the truth of Lewis’ line is rock solid. I think, though, that the keyword in it is “grow.” Just as we expect our children to grow emotionally and physically, Christians are called to grow in God.

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The garden was so pretty when they put it in, and I admired it each time I walked past.

There were daylilies, black-eyed sues, hostas and even a towering butterfly bush.

Going all out, the gardeners had included some whimsical ornaments amongst the plants that caught my eye and added to the overall tone of the place.

​It was a small lot, but it was a bright spot that brought joy to passersby like me.

A few years have come and gone since the garden first went in and today as I passed it, I was somewhat disappointed at what I saw. Jagged weeds were attempting a comeback, strange, ugly vines were towering over the perennials and a few bold toadstools were having their say in the whole matter.

No one is tending the garden anymore...

Laurie had been dealt a tough hand in life...

She was a nursing student in the college I attended, and she had a goal to make it through one of the toughest programs at our school with little or no support from her parents.

To me, Laurie was one of the funniest, most creative and self confident girls that I had met. As an underclassman, I found myself looking up to her, copying her and in some sense, wanting to be like her.

I don’t know if it was her struggle to make the grade or her lack of parental support, but Laurie had a downside that I only got a glimpse of from time to time. You see, she would sometimes believe a different story about herself. 

It was a crisp, sunny day in Washington, D.C. when I left the conference.

Climbing into my rental car, map in hand, I was confident of my journey home.

It was a pre-GPS era back then, and I had received my directions before leaving the hotel from what I thought was a trusted source.



They were simple: a straight road and then I would see the entrance onto the highway that would take me home.

No problem.

I began to notice that something wasn’t quite right when my straight road narrowed into a residential area with no highway entrance in site. I stopped and asked a mail carrier whose cryptic directions led me through an alleyway and on to some embassy office buildings. From there, I hailed a man and explained my plight. In a thick accent, he told me that he was not from the area and couldn’t help me.

My pulse quickened, and my heart thudded in my chest as I realized what was happening – I was lost! Panic set in for me, and a strange sense of hysteria accompanied it. I had no way of calling anyone and didn’t feel that returning to the hotel was an option. The hugeness of the city closed in on me. I parked on a curb and sobbed – certain I’d be lost forever.

That’s when my angel came.

The one thing I never tire of while living in
Western Pennsylvania
is hearing the interesting wildlife stories I get from area locals...

I’ve heard an incredible story about a pregnant “dead” snake that gave live birth to a batch of “snakelets” in my good friend’s driveway.



​And I’ve heard a bizarre tale of a deafening “sasquatch” scream that came in the dark hours of a frozen winter morning. And just this last weekend, I heard a crazy story of a plate of cookies and a yardful of hungry bears.

I was sitting on the lawn at a friend’s party watching my girls bounce all their energy out on a trampoline, when a man sat down and introduced himself. A friend of mine looked at him with a sparkle in her eye and said, “Oh, you have to tell the story about the bears.”