Lori Hatcher's Blog: Refresh Blog, page 30

How Do We Wear His Name?

 I spotted the shirt from across the gym. Distinctive blue letters on a bright red background said Red Sox. 

Because I grew up in Rhode Island, my family and I were fierce supporters of the Sox, cheering them to victory over the despised New York Yankees. 

Now that I live in South Carolina, I don’t see Red Sox paraphernalia very often. I guess this is why the man’s red shirt stood out to me. Block letters on the back said B-R-A-D-L-E-Y. 

I hope Bradley’s a good guy, I thought. Sox or no Sox, I wouldn’t want to wear someone’s name on my back unless he was someone I’d be proud to be associated with. 

During the tribulation period, people won’t be choosing which baseball player’s name to wear on their backs. They’ll be deciding whether to wear the mark of the antichrist (Revelation 3:16-17) or the name of God (Revelation 14:1). 

The mark of the antichrist will grant them the ability to buy, sell, and conduct business. The name of God could get them killed. 

Although creation groans for the end times, we’re not there yet. In the United States at least, we can still assemble for worship, carry a Bible, and share our faith without fear of persecution. 

But for how long? 

How long before, like our brothers and sisters in China, our pastors will be arrested, our churches closed, and our members will have to hide to worship? 

Or, like believers in the East African country of Eritrea, we’ll be arrested and imprisoned for years without ever being charged with a crime? 

Or, like Christians in North Korea, we’ll risk being tortured as a traitor for swearing allegiance to God instead of the ruling family? 

We don’t like to think of these possibilities, but they are real. They could happen—to us. 

When the stakes are high and the punishment severe, will we be so quick to wear the name of Jesus? To display His cross around our necks? To pray like Daniel did when he knew evil eyes were watching? 

First Corinthians 4:2 reminds us, “Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful.” 

We have, indeed, been given a trust—a weighty trust—one that may soon come to an end. For now, we have the freedom to name the name of Jesus without fear. What are we doing with this trust? 

How do we bear Jesus’ name? Are we cowardly and ashamed? Or bold and winsome? Do we share the good news of our faith as if it truly is good news? Or do we treat it like some awkward family secret we reveal to only our closest friends? 

This Christmas season, may we wear God’s name with pride, reverence, and gratitude. May we joyfully proclaim to all who will hear, “For unto you is born this day, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” 

We owe it to our brothers and sisters in China, Eritrea, and North Korea. 

We owe it to Jesus. 




Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
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If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

The Habit that Changed My Heart

“I bought a Bible yesterday,” Sarah said, “and I’m going to start reading it. I hope to find some answers.” 

Sarah and I talked a bit about how to begin. “The Bible isn’t like most books,” I said, “where you start at the beginning and read straight through, although many have read it that way. The first time I read it, I began in the New Testament, with Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.”

I’m so excited for this woman who’s seeking answers. She’s come to the right place. 

James 1:5 promises, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” 

As she reads, Sarah will find answers. 

Better yet, she will find God. 

John 1:1 tells us, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” 

As Sarah reads the Word of God, she will encounter Jesus. 

And Jesus has the power to change her life. 

My Confession 

Twenty years ago I wrestled with one of two greatest commandments: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” 

I loved God with my soul—I had trusted Him as Savior. I acknowledged him with my mind, too, as King and Sovereign Lord. 

But I struggled to love Him with my heart—my emotions and my passion. I didn’t feel for God the emotions I normally equate with love. I felt awe, respect, and gratitude, but my heart didn’t swell like it did when I thought about my husband, or my children, or even my friends. 

Something was missing. 

A Curious Thing Happened

That year I began to read through the Bible for the first time. I used the MacArthur Daily Bible, which breaks up the text into daily readings, a portion from the Old Testament, a portion of the New, a Psalm, and a Proverb. In fifteen minutes a day, I’d read through the Bible in a year. 

As I read, a curious thing happened. My heart stirred.

I read in Genesis how God created mankind from nothing and walked and talked with Adam and Eve at the end of every day, and I glimpsed God’s desire for a relationship with us (Genesis 3:8). 

I learned that though He had every right to destroy the people He had created because they spurned His love and believed Satan’s lie, He immediately put in place instead a redemption plan, one that vanquished death and hell for those who would believe (Genesis 3:15). 

I listened to His heart as He described His plan to bless all those who would believe in Him (Psalm 37). 

I heard Him weep as he rescued rebellious Israel over and over again from the folly of sin (Jeremiah 8:18-21). 

I read how He longed to gather His children in His arms and care for them all the days of their lives (Matthew 23:37). 

And I read, on every page and in every story, God’s Father heart calling to His children, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 28:11). 

The more I read, the more I fell in love with God. 

Heart-swelling, chest-bursting, tell-the-world love that couldn’t be contained. Tears of overwhelming emotion often dripped from my eyes onto the pages of my Bible. A warmth I’d never experienced wrapped around me like the softest blanket, cradling me in God’s embrace.

I loved Him. 

I LOVED Him. 

I LOVED HIM. 

With all my mind, all my soul, and all my HEART, I loved Him. 

This is the power of God’s Word. We cannot read it and remain unchanged. We cannot read it without falling in love with its Author. 

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word WAS God.” 

I’m so excited for Sarah this year. Not only will she read the Word of God, she’ll encounter the God of the Word. 

If she seeks Him with all her heart, she will find Him. 

And her life will be changed forever. 

What About You? 

In the article, “Ten Questions for a New Year,” Don Whitney invites us to prayerfully ask ourselves, “What one thing can you do this year to increase your enjoyment of God?” 

The answer for me, and, I suspect, for most of us, is Read the Bible. 

Nowhere else will we experience the depth and breadth and height of God’s love for us. Nothing else will expand our love for Him. Nothing will transform our lives more than the living, active, powerful Word of God. 

If you’re skeptical, why not try it and see what happens? 

Begin your Bible reading time by asking, as Moses did, “Lord, show me your glory.” Then read with an open heart. In a journal, write down what you learn about God. Before long you’ll have a list longer than the list I made as a 13-year-old girl about THE ONE I hoped to marry someday. Strong, patient, kind, loving, sacrificial, humble, gentle, smart, creative, wise, honest, fun-loving, joyful, peacemaking . . . and on and on it will go. 

How can you not fall in love with Someone like this? 

He will draw your heart to His with cords of loving kindness and fill your life with joy. 

What are your plans for the new year? Do they include a daily commitment to read God’s Word? 

I hope so.



Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

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Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

Our Prayers Have No Expiration Date

When was the last time you found treasure in an unexpected place?

I found some today. Like reaching into my pocket and finding a twenty dollar bill, this unexpected discovery made my heart happy.

I reached into the book of Luke, and there it was, nestled in the folds of the Christmas story. 

Zechariah, the elderly priest, had drawn a once-in-a lifetime opportunity to burn incense in the temple of the Lord. “He was a just man, observing the Lord’s commandments and serving blamelessly.”

But. 

“But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years” (Luke 1:7).

As Zechariah prepared to offer the fragrant incense to God, an angel appeared.

An angel.

Angels appear frequently in the narrative of the Christmas story. Familiarity often causes us to breeze right past them. But they weren’t common in the first century. Seven hundred years of silence had echoed in the space between the final promise of Malachi and the first whisper of Matthew, and now the silence was over.

God picks up the conversation right where he left off—by heralding the forerunner of the Messiah. He sends an unexpected message through an otherworldly messenger.

I wonder, did the angel’s clothes shimmer with ethereal light from God’s presence? Did he shake space dust from his mighty wings? Did his feet shine with the reflection of golden pavement?

I’ve no doubt his appearance was awe-inspiring, because Scripture tells us Zechariah was “gripped with fear.”

Maybe he reached for his nitroglycerin pills or leaned trembling on his staff. Perhaps he blinked his cataract-clouded eyes—more than once.

“Do not be afraid,” the angel said (v. 13).

“Zechariah, your prayer has been heard.” 

My prayer? What prayer? Zechariah blinks again, this time in confusion.

 “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.”

God heard my prayer for a son? I prayed that prayer every day. I cried. I begged. I fasted.

But that was decades ago. And when Elizabeth’s womb remained empty and her fruitful years passed, I stopped praying. That dream died.  

“Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. He will be a joy and a delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth” (v. 13-14).

A joy and a delight. 

The angel’s words to Zechariah were a gift. They are a gift to us as well. 

They remind us that there is no expiration date on our prayers. They go ahead of us into eternity. They continue to accomplish God’s purposes long after the words leave our lips.

In the fullness of time, according to His good plan, God moves. 

Zechariah saw his prayer answered decades after he had uttered it. But he didn’t get what he asked for.

He got so much more. 

Instead of giving him an ordinary little boy who lived an ordinary little life, God gave Zechariah John the Baptist, the one who would come “in the spirit and power of Elijah, 'to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children,' and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord" (Luke 1:17).

Because we are human, our understanding is limited and short-sighted. We ask for things that seem right and reasonable.

But God has greater plans. His understanding is boundless and his purposes eternal.

We take the short view of today and tomorrow and next week. He takes the long view and sees into the end of time.

His plan of redemption and grace march on, unaltered by human frailty and failure. God will rescue His people (Deuteronomy 32:36). He will complete the good work He has begun in us (Philippians 1:6).

And He will answer our prayers. Perhaps not in the way we think. But in the way He knows is best.

Perhaps this is why Jesus encouraged us to “always pray and not give up” (Luke 18:1).

What are you praying for today? What have you prayed for in the past and failed to receive? Zechariah’s story reminds us that we can trust God not only to hear our prayers, but to answer them—in ways we could never have imagined.

Those unanswered prayers that make your heart hurt with longing? You can trust Him.

Ask Zechariah.



Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

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Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

God with Us this Christmas

I sit in the semi-darkness of a cloudy December day. The bustle of early morning has passed, and, for a brief interlude, quiet has settled over my home like a warm blanket. I hesitate to turn on the light, afraid the brightness will frighten the silence away. 

Silence is precious in this week before Christmas. 

So is solitude. 

Today I’ll babysit for the littles so their mama can shop unhindered. I’ll make a holiday meal for a friend, wash three loads of laundry, and host the final Bible study of the year. I’ll write in the snatches of time between microwave and dryer beeps and answer a dozen phone calls and emails. 

But in this brief moment before the world elbows its way into my day, I sit in silent contemplation. 

Until someone appears in the doorway of my sanctuary. 

Reverent and respectful of this holy pause, he waits quietly until I notice him. 

Emmanuel. 

God with us. 

God with me.  

Always the perfect gentleman, he doesn’t push himself in. He waits to be invited. To sit with me. To share my contemplation. To speak his heart and listen to mine. He adds some thoughts about my day I haven’t considered, takes a task off my  To Do list, and adds one of his own. 

I tell him about the things that weigh heavy on my heart. Wayward family members, strained relationships, financial challenges, health concerns. 

He takes the burdens from me and hands me peace in exchange. 

As the calendar steamrolls toward Christmas, you may not think you have time for quiet contemplation. Do it anyway. Set aside a few quiet moments to fellowship with Emmanuel, the God who is with us. 

It's what Christmas is all about.








Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
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Note: I promise never to spam you or share your email address.
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Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

What to Do When the Happiest Season of All Isn't Happy

Christmas can make us profoundly aware of all that is wrong in our lives. Watching holiday specials featuring happy families gathered around the Christmas tree makes us grieve the imperfections in our own families. The endless ads for the latest and greatest possessions remind us of our meager bank accounts. The health and apparent well being of others stand in sharp contrast to our own physical, emotional, and spiritual challenges. If we’re not proactive, the “happiest season of all” can become the saddest one.

Unless we let gratitude rescue us.

Social media was full of memes and posts about gratitude during the Thanksgiving season. That’s good. By nature we are self-centered, selfish, ungrateful people. It sounds harsh, but it’s true. I am oftentimes a self-centered, selfish, ungrateful person.

Occasionally, however, the goodness of God overwhelms me, and gratitude bubbles up.

It happened recently in a most unlikely place – my laundry room. Rain had been falling for three days. This probably doesn’t sound like much to those of you who live in places other than the sunny South, but for us, three days of rain with two more forecasted is unusual. And inconvenient.

My gratitude erupted when I pulled the first of two loads of clothes out of the washer and stuffed it into the dryer. I’m so thankful I have a clothes dryer, I thought, and grateful tears welled up. For ten years I lived without one.

On sunny days I’d hang our laundry on a backyard clothesline, and on rainy days I’d string it up all over the house like a Chinese laundry. Remembering those days triggered my grateful response and tendered my heart to recognize God’s goodness.

Another gratitude eruption happened the day I gave blood. “Thirteen point six,” the phlebotomist announced as she read my hemoglobin level. “Thank you, God,” I blurted out.

The technician looked at me strangely, so I explained. “For many years my hemoglobin was so low I couldn’t donate blood. In fact,” I paused, “someone had to give me two pints of blood. Now I donate every chance I get. I’m so grateful to be well.”

Gratitude often wells up on a spiritual level, too. I shared my salvation story recently with a new friend. As I told her my story, all the emotions of those empty and fearful days returned, and I was once again a profoundly lost young adult.

“I’d been living my life my way, and doing a lousy job of it,” I told her. “I was anxious and afraid. I had major life decisions to make and no wisdom to draw from. I went to bed crying and woke up crying.” Tears pricked my eyes at the memory, and I blinked them away.

“Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I went to talk with the pastor of the church I’d been attending. ‘Lori, don’t you want to surrender your life to Christ?’ he asked. ‘Let him take control.’ His words stirred something deep in my soul. I did want someone bigger and wiser to order my life. I bowed my head and prayed, ‘Lord, I’ve been doing things my way for too long. I don’t want to live this way anymore. I surrender my life to you. Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do it.’”

“My life’s never been the same since,” I continued. “I have peace, even when things aren’t going my way. I’m not afraid of the future. And I have a wise, loving Father to pray to whenever I need wisdom and direction. I’m very grateful.”

If we let it, gratitude can ride in on a white horse and vanquish the demons of self-pity, comparison, and depression. It can open our eyes to the goodness of God and spotlight his gracious hand in our lives. And it can remind us of how lost we were, and how far we've come.

If you’re struggling this holiday season, will you pray this prayer with me?

Father, thank you for your presence in my life. I’m very grateful you promise never to leave me nor forsake me. Thank you for providing everything I need, and much of what I want. Help me be grateful for what I have instead of dwelling on what I don’t. Lord, I miss the friends and family members who are absent from our holiday celebrations, but I thank you for the years we had together. 
Thank you for my family—my imperfect, struggling, sometimes heartbreaking family. Help me love them as you love me. Most of all, thank you for sending Jesus – for loving me when I am unlovable, pursuing me when I neglect you, and preparing a place for me where I will live with you forever. I am most richly blessed.

If you're struggling this holiday season, why not try gratitude? I'd love to hear what you're thankful for. Leave a comment below and join the conversation.




[image error] Dear Hungry for God friends,

I suspect there are quite a few busy women on your Christmas list. Friends, co-workers, fellow church members, and your children's teachers, coaches, and babysitters, to name a few.

If you'd like to give them a gift that will draw them closer to the Lord, encourage them to spend time in God's Word, and think biblically, Hungry for God ... Starving for Time, Five-Minute Devotions for Busy Women is the gift you're looking for.

And what about those friends and loved ones who may not have a relationship with the Lord?

In the last devotion in the book, I share, in a winsome and non-threatening way, what it means to have a relationship with Jesus Christ.

If you give someone you care about a copy of HFG, you'll not only be passing along spiritual encouragement, you'll also be sharing the gospel. Either way, you could change someone's life forever.

And that's what Christmas is all about.



I'm excited to say that
Hungry for God . . . Starving for Time  has 105 reviews and a 4.8 star rating on Amazon. It received the Christian Small Publisher Book of the Year award in 2016.

If you live in the Columbia, South Carolina area, I'd love to autograph and personalize copies for your special friends. Email me at LoriAHatcher @gmail.com.








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If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

4 Ways to Honor Your Missing Loved One this Christmas

This past Thanksgiving was our family’s fourth without my mother-in-law, ninth without two sisters and a brother, and sixteenth without my grandmother. We felt the ache, mourned the loss, and wished with all our hearts they were still with us. 

Christmas is coming, and with it a slew of family gatherings. Unless you’ve been unusually fortunate, you’ll have an empty chair or two at your dining room table. It’s unrealistic to think you won’t miss your loved ones, but holidays are for celebrating, not for grieving. As you prepare for Christmas without your precious loved one, here are a few ways you can honor him or her:

This article is a featured post on the Salvation Army's website, War Cry. CLICK HERE to read the rest of the post.



Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

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If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

Can These Bones Live? Hope for Our Unsaved Loved Ones

“Son of man, can these bones live?” 

To Ezekiel, surrounded by a valley of dried bones, God’s question seemed . . . absurd. 

Heart-wrenching and hopeless. 

Maybe even cruel. 

I’ve stood at the bedside and caskets of dead loved ones. If anyone had asked me, “Can these bones live?” I would have answered as Mary did long ago, “‘I know he will rise again in the resurrection,’ But not now. He’s dead” (John 11:24). 

Ezekiel wasn’t sitting beside a deceased loved one or standing by the coffin of someone who had passed away. He was surrounded by a vast expanse of beyond-dead bones—bones that had laid there so long they were one footfall away from dust.And yet God asked, “Can these bones live?” 

Ezekiel, faith-filled prophet and priest that he was, answered God’s question in a way that defied the obvious and left room for a miracle. 

“Sovereign Lord, you alone know” (Ezekiel 37:3). 

How many times have you looked at a loved one or a friend and seen what Ezekiel saw—a valley of dry bones? Not physical bones like those that littered the plains of Ezekiel’s vision, but spiritual ones? Dry bones that housed a soul running hard away from God and in danger of disintegrating when the next crisis came? 

How often have you cried over, prayed for, begged, and witnessed to someone you love who seemed determined to march straight into eternity separated from God? How many times have you stopped praying, thinking there was no hope, only to shoulder the prayer burden again, clinging to the knowledge that it’s not God’s will that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance? 

With rare exception, physical resurrection belongs to the realm of the miraculous, but spiritual resurrections happen all the time. 

The apostle Paul was one. His spiritual bones, though zealous and religious, were deader than dead. “For you have heard of my previous way of life in Judaism, how intensely I persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it” (Galatians 1:13-14). 

Yet the God he blasphemed called his name. Rebuked him for his sin. Filled him with faith. And breathed spiritual life into his soul. Paul passed from death to life in a transformation so glorious he never stopped talking about it. 

Unlike Paul, I had no religious cloak to cover my spiritually dry bones. I was lost without pretense or hope. I couldn’t claim, as he did, that I was seeking to please God. I was seeking to please myself. I was number one, and there was no number two. 

Yet, to borrow from Paul’s testimony in Galatians 1:15, God, “set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace.” 

God’s been breathing life into dry bones for millennia. He began with Adam. Then He plucked Abraham out of the pagan land of the Chaldees, and made of him a great nation. 

He chose David from the sheep folds and transformed him into a man after his own heart. He plucked Josiah, a tiny boy of eight, and Methuselah, an aged man of centuries and made them compatriots in the vast army of believers. 

He’s summoned into life the dry bones of princesses and prostitutes, drug addicts and doctors. No heart is too hard, and no sin too great for God’s breath to resurrect. Over and over again I’ve seen him replace hearts of stone with hearts of flesh, transforming haters of God into lovers of God. 

If someone you care about looks like a pile of spiritually dry bones, and you wonder if they could ever live, I invite you to stand in the valley with Elijah. Lift your eyes from the dead bones to the living Savior and say in faith and hope, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” 

“And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. 

“Then he said to me, ‘Prophesy.’ So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army” (Ezekiel 37:7-10). 

Unlike Elijah, we can’t command spiritual life into anyone, but we can ask God to work. 

I invite you today—will you join me, in faith and trust, and invite the Lord God to breathe life into our loved ones’ souls?May we live to see God raise up a vast army of Jesus followers from the dry bones of those we love, for their good, and for His glory. Amen. 



Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
Then, be sure to VALIDATE the confirmation email you receive. 

Note: I promise never to spam you or share your email address.
Because busy women need to connect with God in the craziness of everyday life.



If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

A Moment of Hope

Two years ago I attended a banquet for a pro-life ministry called A Moment of Hope . In the center of each table sat stunning orchids in full bloom—purple, fuchsia, yellow, and red. Bunches of blossoms hung like grapes from long stems. Some were showy, like pink monkey faces. Others were delicate and demure. 

“As a thank you for your support and a reminder to pray for our ministry, we’d like each table sponsor to take an orchid home,” the emcee announced. 

I considered a plant with blooms the size of clementines but instead selected one with miniature white flowers. The blossoms reminded me of the babies the ministry rescues every year. Tiny, pure, and innocent, these pre-born babies have barely begun to live before their existence is threatened by abortion. 

Margaret* is one of those babies. Conceived out of wedlock by people too young to be parents, her presence was not celebrated like those whose conceptions were “planned.” Her existence caused problems--and questions—lots of them. 

“How can I tell my parents?” 

“What will I do about school?” 

“What will people say?” 

“How can I care for a baby?” 

“What should I do?” 

Her mother, Lillie, made an appointment at the local Planned Parenthood office—to gather information and discuss options. The counselor agreed with her—you can’t tell your parents. You have to finish school. People will talk. You’re too young to have a baby. Here’s what you should do. It’s the only option. 

She scheduled an abortion the following week.Instead of feeling relief, Lillie left the building heavyhearted. 

At the foot of the driveway stood a man with kind eyes. 

“Hi, my name is John. May I talk with you for a moment?” 

The moment turned into two. And then five. When the conversation moved around the corner to a restaurant, the truth gushed out like a rushing river. The relationship. Her pregnancy. Her parents. Her schooling. Only one option. No hope. 

“But there are options,” he said gently, “and there is hope.” 

When I brought the orchid home from the banquet, I set it on the dining room table and enjoyed its snowy blossoms. When the last one fell, I relocated the plant to a sunny window in my guest room. One day I noticed a shoot emerging from the base of the plant—the orchid was going to bloom again. 

Imagining a cluster of blooms as beautiful as the first, I checked the plant’s progress often. All was well until my grandchildren spent the night. The next morning, as I stripped the sheets from the bed, I noticed a stick on the floor—only it wasn’t a stick. It was the blossom stem of my orchid. 

There’d be no beautiful blossoms decorating my dining room table that spring. 

Spring turned into summer, and summer became fall. As I did every week, I carried the orchid from the guest room to the bathroom and doused it with water. I eyed the still-broken stem and sighed.  

Then I noticed something. 

A bump had formed right below the severed end of the spike. By the next week, the bump had swelled. The week after that confirmed what I had hoped for—a new sprout was growing from beneath the broken stem. 

Meanwhile, at the base of the plant, another spike was forming. 

Within a month, the plant withe the barren future sported not one but two flower stems.

Lillie is a lot like my orchid. 


With help from John and his team, she began to her reframe her future. They connected Lillie with medical resources and a care team who would walk her through every step of her pregnancy. She realized that while her pregnancy had changed her original future, perhaps another future—a better one—awaited her. 

When my grandkids broke my orchid’s stem, I assumed nothing beautiful could come from it. Instead, with time, nurturing, and healing, the plant produced something more spectacular than if it had never been broken—two stems of snowy white blossoms. 

The same is true of Lillie’s life. 

In time, with nurturing and healing, her life produced not one, but two beautiful futures. 

It didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen easily. When Lillie chose life for her baby, it took some time for her world to right itself. Her parents were heartbroken. Her education suffered. People talked. She wasn’t ready for a baby. She didn’t know what to do. 

But little by little, with the help of family, friends, and kind strangers, her future brightened and her hope grew. 

Now not only does she have a future—one free from guilt and shame—her baby has one, too. 


Instead of a dead, lifeless stem separated from the plant that produced it, little Margaret is alive and growing. Day by day, like her mother, she is becoming a person of exquisite beauty. 


"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (Jeremiah 1:5). 



This holiday season, would you consider giving to a ministry like A Moment of Hope ? Every dollar you contribute gives women like Lillie and babies like Margaret a hope and a future. For more information, click HERE. 

*The story is true, but the names have been changed.





Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
Then, be sure to VALIDATE the confirmation email you receive. 

Note: I promise never to spam you or share your email address.
Because busy women need to connect with God in the craziness of everyday life.



If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

Two years ago I attended a banquet for a pro-life ministr...

Two years ago I attended a banquet for a pro-life ministry called A Moment of Hope . In the center of each table sat stunning orchids in full bloom—purple, fuchsia, yellow, and red. Bunches of blossoms hung like grapes from long stems. Some were showy, like pink monkey faces. Others were delicate and demure. 

“As a thank you for your support and a reminder to pray for our ministry, we’d like each table sponsor to take an orchid home,” the emcee announced. 

I considered a plant with blooms the size of clementines but instead selected one with miniature white flowers. The blossoms reminded me of the babies the ministry rescues every year. Tiny, pure, and innocent, these pre-born babies have barely begun to live before their existence is threatened by abortion. 

Margaret* is one of those babies. Conceived out of wedlock by people too young to be parents, her presence was not celebrated like those whose conceptions were “planned.” Her existence caused problems--and questions—lots of them. 

“How can I tell my parents?” 

“What will I do about school?” 

“What will people say?” 

“How can I care for a baby?” 

“What should I do?” 

Her mother, Lillie, made an appointment at the local Planned Parenthood office—to gather information and discuss options. The counselor agreed with her—you can’t tell your parents. You have to finish school. People will talk. You’re too young to have a baby. Here’s what you should do. It’s the only option. 

She scheduled an abortion the following week.Instead of feeling relief, Lillie left the building heavyhearted. 

At the foot of the driveway stood a man with kind eyes. 

“Hi, my name is John. May I talk with you for a moment?” 

The moment turned into two. And then five. When the conversation moved around the corner to a restaurant, the truth gushed out like a rushing river. The relationship. Her pregnancy. Her parents. Her schooling. Only one option. No hope. 

“But there are options,” he said gently, “and there is hope.” 

When I brought the orchid home from the banquet, I set it on the dining room table and enjoyed its snowy blossoms. When the last one fell, I relocated the plant to a sunny window in my guest room. One day I noticed a shoot emerging from the base of the plant—the orchid was going to bloom again. 

Imagining a cluster of blooms as beautiful as the first, I checked the plant’s progress often. All was well until my grandchildren spent the night. The next morning, as I stripped the sheets from the bed, I noticed a stick on the floor—only it wasn’t a stick. It was the blossom stem of my orchid. 

There’d be no beautiful blossoms decorating my dining room table that spring. 

Spring turned into summer, and summer became fall. As I did every week, I carried the orchid from the guest room to the bathroom and doused it with water. I eyed the still-broken stem and sighed.  

Then I noticed something. 

A bump had formed right below the severed end of the spike. By the next week, the bump had swelled. The week after that confirmed what I had hoped for—a new sprout was growing from beneath the broken stem. 

Meanwhile, at the base of the plant, another spike was forming. 

Within a month, the plant withe the barren future sported not one but two flower stems.

Lillie is a lot like my orchid. 


With help from John and his team, she began to her reframe her future. They connected Lillie with medical resources and a care team who would walk her through every step of her pregnancy. She realized that while her pregnancy had changed her original future, perhaps another future—a better one—awaited her. 

When my grandkids broke my orchid’s stem, I assumed nothing beautiful could come from it. Instead, with time, nurturing, and healing, the plant produced something more spectacular than if it had never been broken—two stems of snowy white blossoms. 

The same is true of Lillie’s life. 

In time, with nurturing and healing, her life produced not one, but two beautiful futures. 

It didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen easily. When Lillie chose life for her baby, it took some time for her world to right itself. Her parents were heartbroken. Her education suffered. People talked. She wasn’t ready for a baby. She didn’t know what to do. 

But little by little, with the help of family, friends, and kind strangers, her future brightened and her hope grew. 

Now not only does she have a future—one free from guilt and shame—her baby has one, too. 


Instead of a dead, lifeless stem separated from the plant that produced it, little Margaret is alive and growing. Day by day, like her mother, she is becoming a person of exquisite beauty. 


"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (Jeremiah 1:5). 



This holiday season, would you consider giving to a ministry like A Moment of Hope ? Every dollar you contribute gives women like Lillie and babies like Margaret a hope and a future. For more information, click HERE. 

*The story is true, but the names have been changed.





Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
Then, be sure to VALIDATE the confirmation email you receive. 

Note: I promise never to spam you or share your email address.
Because busy women need to connect with God in the craziness of everyday life.



If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher

God is Nigh --24 Notes of Comfort

All eyes were on the casket, but I saw the soldier in the distance — a solitary figure on the hill. 

Wearing full dress uniform and holding an instrument, the man waited, eyes glued to the flag that draped the coffin. 

He raised the trumpet to his lips, breathing gently on the mouthpiece. Cold instruments produce sour notes, and that wouldn’t due for this World War II veteran’s funeral. 

“As we commit the body of Lawrence Goodwin to the ground and commend his soul to heaven,” the minister said, “I invite you to stand for the presentation of the flag.” 

Heads that had bowed in reverence lifted. Stooping shoulders and bent knees straightened. Right hands raised and settled over aching hearts. 

Two men gently lifted the flag from its sacred place. No longer would it serve as a shroud for the dead. Now it would function as a comfort for the living. 


Clear and mournful, the first notes of Taps slipped from the  trumpet and into the hush that cradled the mourners.

Day is done. 

Like a sleeper awakening from the darkest night, the widow raised her head. 

Gone the sun. 

She turned toward the sound. 

From the lake. 

From the hills. 

From the sky. 

She spotted the lone musician. Made eye contact. Blinked. 

All is well. 

She bowed her head again. 

Safely rest. 

Eyes closed in faith and arms open to receive the flag, she released the breath she’d been holding since her husband took sick. 

God is nigh.





Are you hungry for God, but starving for time? 
I’d love to send you a 5-minute e-mail devotion twice a week to start your day off with the Lord. 

Sign up for a free subscription to Hungry for God by CLICKING HERE.
Then, be sure to VALIDATE the confirmation email you receive. 

Note: I promise never to spam you or share your email address.
Because busy women need to connect with God in the craziness of everyday life.






If this post was meaningful to you, would you consider sharing it with a friend by clicking on one of the buttons below? Did you know you can receive bi-weekly Hungry for God posts sent directly to your email inbox? Visit http://www.lori-benotweary.blogspot.com and click on the link in the right hand corner to Subscribe Via Email.

Copyright 2018 by Lori Hatcher