Michelle DeRusha's Blog, page 8

What a Popular Author & a Centenarian Grandmother Taught Me about Being Present

I was at an event a couple of weeks ago in which I met quite a few high-profile authors whom I admire and whose books I have on my shelves. One such author and I struck up a conversation when we found ourselves face-to-face, crunched into an awkward corner of a crowded room.

“So, are you a writer?” this author asked me, and as I answered yes, briefly explaining the biography I’d written about the Luthers, I noticed something right away. The person I was speaking to was not looking at me. As...

When Walking is Prayer

Though I’ve never met her in person, I’ve admired Hilary Yancey for a long time. She’s a deep thinker and a beautiful writer, and, lucky for all of us, she’s recently released her first book, Forgiving God: A Story of Faith – a memoir about becoming a mother to a child with disabilities and the impact that experience has had on her faith and on her relationship with God. I haven’t finished the book yet, because it just arrived in the mail today, but let me simply say that I picked it up while...

Allowing Space in Order to Be Filled

This time of year I’m always itchy to get my hands in the dirt. As the temperature begins to warm and the ground thaws, I am filled with a restless energy, eager to slip my feet into my plastic gardening clogs, grab a spade from the garage, and dig in.

I love the feeling of satisfaction that comes from clearing a bed of decayed oak leaves, shelled acorns and desiccated weeds, carefully pulling away the detritus of winter to reveal tender green perennials peeking up through the soil.

I love m...

When Easter Doesn’t Show Up Like You Expect

We awakened to snow, freezing temperatures, gray skies and gloom, and it was no April Fool’s joke. There were no short-sleeved dresses or sassy sandals this Easter Sunday. Instead I wore a turtleneck, gray tights and black boots to church. By the time we returned home, a dusting of snow had accumulated on the tree branches, shrubs, and grass, and the air was the kind of damp, penetrating cold you’d feel in a seaside town. I couldn’t wait to peel off my church clothes and slide into a pair of...

When God Is a Lot Like the Parent of a Teenager

Two days ago I sat in my car in the parking lot of the local nursery. It was cold and gray out. The plastic of the greenhouse flapped noisily in the wind, making me grateful for the warm rush of heat that blew from the dashboard vents as the engine idled.

I was waiting for my son, Noah, who was inside the greenhouse having his first-ever job interview. We’d prepped the night before. My husband had asked Noah some mock questions, and we’d reviewed the basics of Interviewing 101: firm handshak...

Celebrating Holy Week: A Free Audio Devotional

My friend Kimberly Coyle is a beautifully gifted writer, and this year, she is offering something really special to help us quiet our minds and turn our hearts toward Jesus this holy season. If you had the opportunity to listen to Kimberly’s recent audio series for Advent, then you know what a special gift this new Holy Week series is. I know I, for one, desperately need this invitation into quiet contemplation as we enter Holy Week this year. Please join me in welcoming Kimberly Coyle to the...

Let’s All Practice Indiscriminate Compassion

Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash

“Indiscriminate compassion.” I came across these two words recently in Brennan Manning’s memoir All Is Grace, and they stopped me short.

You would think the word compassion wouldn’t need an adjective. Compassion – “sympathy, empathy, care, concern, sensitivity, warmth, love, mercy, kindness, humanity, charity” – should be able to stand on its own, right? Indiscriminate compassion seems redundant.

Turns out, I need the adjective.

The truth is, more often than no...

Practicing Ordinary Tasks as Spiritual Disciplines

I noticed recently that several of the baseboards and doorframes in my house looked dingy. I like white trim, but the downside is that it readily shows smudges, stains and nicks. Last week, unable to tolerate my home’s dilapidated woodwork a moment longer, I grabbed a brush, pried open a can of white paint and got to work.

I don’t mind painting, especially touching up trim. I find the precise work soothing, the repetitive sweep of the brush back and forth over molding and baseboards, the rhy...

What I’ve Learned: Winter Edition

Four times a year Emily Freeman hosts the seasonal What I’ve Learned, and this week it’s time for the Winter Edition. Here are a few silly and serious things (okay, mainly silly) I’ve learned these last three months.

Welcome Back, Retro Clock Radio

At some point a year or two ago I switched out my trusty clock-radio on my bedside table for my smart phone. I didn’t love the look of the digital clock, and I figured why not simply use the alarm function on my phone. The problem was, I have zero...

Think Twice Before Saying, “I’m Blessed”

I’ve said it myself, time and time again: “I’m blessed with good health.” “I’m blessed with a beautiful family.” “I’m so blessed to live in this house.” “God has blessed me with so much.”

And it’s true. I do feel blessed when I think about my life. I have everything I need and more.

My refrigerator and cabinets are stocked full of food. My health is good, and when it’s not, I have insurance to cover the cost of doctor’s visits and prescriptions. I live in a comfortable, spacious home in a sa...