God Fills in the Blank

Cathedral of the Plains, Victoria, KS (St. Fidelis Catholic Church)

I've heard and read the account of Jesus' baptism dozens of times. I've been going to church since my parents carried me through the doors of our tiny rural church as an infant, so I've had plenty of opportunities to hear preachers' take on this familiar passage.

Trinity United Methodist Church, Hutchinson, KS

Beautiful stained glass windows depict the scene as John the Baptist baptizes Jesus and a dove comes down from heaven:

And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

Matthew 3: 16

But I "heard" it differently a few weeks ago. Pastor Ben shared it as the Gospel lesson, focusing on Jesus baptism in Matthew 3: 13-17.

You know it's a good sermon when you're still thinking about the message two months later. Then, I read the Scripture for this week's service, Transfiguration Sunday. The Gospel lesson was Matthew 17:1-9. And, again, we hear the Word of God:

“This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!

Matthew 17: 5b

As Pastor Ben shared, many of us have an internal monologue, telling ourselves, "I feel like I am accepted as long as I am __________ enough."

The blank is different for everyone. The blank may be different for me today than it was yesterday.

I feel like I am accepted as long as I am smart enough.
I feel like I am accepted as long as I am thin enough.
I feel like I'm accepted as long as I work hard enough.
I feel like I'm accepted as long as I am rich enough. 
I feel like I'm accepted as long as I make everyone happy enough.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

But, as Pastor Ben shared, God didn't put conditions on His love for Christ. In the passage in Matthew, He simply says: "I love Him. I am pleased with Him."

God sent us Jesus. Through baptism, we are initiated into Christ's holy church. We are given new life through water and the Spirit. All this is God's gift, offered to us without price. That's worth repeating: Without price. We don't have to look a certain way. We don't have to work for it. Through baptism, we are incorporated by the Holy Spirit into God's new creation. We are members of the family of Christ.

And, as Pastor Ben told us, we can begin subtracting that soundtrack that plays in our very human brains.

I feel like I am accepted as long as I am _________ enough.

Instead, we hear:

You are mine.

You are loved.

I am pleased.

Remember, as a kid, throwing a rock into a pond? The circles radiate from that center, reaching further and further until the banks of the pond stop the flow. Even then, the leaves and plants dance around the edge of the pond as the water reaches them.

Because of the Rock of Ages, we can be that pebble, radiating out from God's love in the center. It can be in a smile .. in a helping hand ... in turning the other cheek ... in an encouraging note ... in serving a funeral dinner ... in picking up some extra supplies for the local food bank. The options are endless. It's another reminder to be like ripples on a pond, where we radiate outward and carry the love of Christ into the lives of others.

One of the songs we sang on that baptism Sunday was "Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy." It's not a hymn that I was as familiar with, but I loved the words, including:

Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
Lost and ruined by the fall;
If you tarry 'til you're better,
You will never come at all.

Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness He requireth
Is to feel your need of Him.

I don't have to wait to come to Jesus until I have everything figured out. That's not going to happen this side of heaven.  I liked this version, sung by Fernando Ortega along with Amy Grant.



I love old hymns, but I also like contemporary Christian music. On K-LOVE one day, I heard a song by Jonny Diaz called, "A More Beautiful You." And it made me think back to Pastor Ben's message of God's love for us, through Christ.

You are loved.
You are mine.
I am pleased.

His love isn't dependent upon how the outside world views us. God crosses out those words that often rattle through our brains: "I feel like I am accepted as long as I am _____________ enough."

He's enough. That's the Good News.

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This is my March post at Lovely Branches Ministries. I am also linked to Jennifer Dukes Lee's Tell His Story and to Nebraska blogger Michelle DeRusha's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday. 

Peek Into the Manger

Great Bend First United Methodist Church

The light  makes the scene glow like sapphires, emeralds and rubies. The scene is perfection in that light: Each little piece of glass comes together perfectly to make a beautiful picture.

It would be easy to think that's what the Nativity is all about ... beauty, perfection, peace.  It's Advent. At our church, we pull out the perfectly-white porcelain Nativity scene and light the candles.

Nativity made by Dorothy Newell, Stafford UMC

In another church, the glow of stained glass catches the light of gold threads which run through the elaborate clothing garbing Mary, Joseph and the angel. 

Trinity UMC, Great Bend

In sanctuaries across the world, the winter light streams through stained glass windows, showing an idyllic, pristine scene. Mary glows. Joseph beams. Baby Jesus is bathed in the star's light. 

Holy Cross Catholic Church, Hutchinson, KS

But then I remember. Mary was likely 13 years old (or so). Maybe she wasn't so different from the girls in middle school choir, the ones I witness from the piano bench. Yes, the same ones who are nice as pie one day and then moody and withdrawn the next. (Who am I kidding? You don't have to be 13 to be like that.)

Mary was a young, unwed mother. She had just had her first baby - not in a well-appointed delivery room - but in a stable with animals all around. She laid Him in a manger filled with straw, not a crib with sheets that match a nursery theme. It wasn't all that pretty.

Jesus was born to a family that possessed little and worked hard to make ends meet.

How can we, in the midst of our culture's conspicuous consumption and demand for perfection, turn our focus on the Child who was born into poverty as a sign of hope and salvation for a broken world? While it may seem the world demands perfection, the Gospel message demands nothing from us. Rather, God invites us to gather around the manger just as we are: unfinished lists, burnt pies and all. No matter our imperfections, great or small, God invites us to peek into the manger and gaze at the real Christmas message: That Christ came for us all to be a beacon of hope for the hopeless and to bring peace.

Rev. Amy Slater, Stafford UMC newsletter, Christmas 2012

So, when the list seems overwhelming ... and the oven timer is ringing at the same time the dryer bell is sounding ... and there's too much to do in too little time: Remember it's not about perfection. It's about grace. And, like teenage Mary, listening for God's voice in our lives, then obeying.

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Gifts don't have to cost a lot of money to be meaningful. I enjoy giving gifts from the kitchen to family, friends, the mailman, the choir director ... the list goes on!

Snack mixes don't take much time to make, but they can be something that your gift recipient can use for unexpected guests or their own family gatherings. And, kind of like stained glass windows, the bits and pieces come together to make a delicious whole! Here are a few tried-and-true recipes that we enjoy at our house and I've given as gifts. Click on the links for the recipes and ENJOY!

Banana Cinnamon Snack Mix

Chocolate Coffee Toffee Snack Mix

Pumpkin Pie Crunch Mix

Immeasurable Snack Mix

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This is my December post from Lovely Branches Ministries. Click on this link to read my friend, Suzanne's, ideas for simplifying Christmas.

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I'm linked today to Michelle DeRusha's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday. Check out what other bloggers of faith are saying today by clicking on the link.

If We Are the Body

Maybe, just maybe, the essence of God smells a little like the orange fragrance of Murphy Oil Soap.

In August, I was my church's lay delegate to the Unifying Conference for the Great Plains Conference of the United Methodist Church. It was the final process for joining the Kansas East, Kansas West and Nebraska conferences into one Great Plains Conference as of January 1. We slogged our way through 154 pages of a Plan of Organization. Who knew that the kind of insulation used or the number of GFI outlets available in parsonages would spark such debate? (Not me! I didn't even know what a GFI outlet was until I got there!)

But, tucked in the minutia of parliamentary procedural amendments and votes, the 1,700 conference delegates had the opportunity to Serve Salina. More than 1,000 of us accepted the challenge. Projects included yard and groundwork, minor home repairs, helping the elderly or disabled, sorting food and supplies at pantries and working with children. In all, volunteers completed 50 service projects for individuals, families and nonprofit organizations throughout Salina.

I was among those sent to the Saline County Commission on Aging, which occupies the 103-year-old former Saline County Courthouse. It has soaring ceilings and rich wood trims surrounding beveled glass windows and marble walls. The county allows the Commission on Aging to use the building for a nomimal charge, but they don't have the staff to do deep cleaning projects. They are too busy making a difference in the lives of the aging in the county through program like Meals on Wheels, the Older Kansans Employment Program or Live At Home Solutions.

So there we were - armed with rags and Windex and Murphy Oil Soap - and bolstered by a common cause. Our Serve Salina t-shirts got a little sweaty as we got on our hands and knees or climbed ladders to clean - me a lay delegate from a farm in South Central Kansas and another woman from metropolitan Lincoln. There were pastors who serve the big congregations of Wichita and some who preach at three little churches in rural Nebraska each Sunday morning. Big or small, laity or preacher - we were all trying to make a difference in some small way. 

As I started at the bottom of a wrought iron stair rail and worked up and a lady from Agra started at the top and worked down, I was struck by the symbolism. We could have sat in the air-conditioned Salina Bicentennial Center and stuck to the business of approving mission statements and vision statements. But what's the use of a mission statement without some hands and feet to put them into action? That would be about as effective as hanging a rag over a staircase and hoping it would miraculously get dusted. 

Saline County Commission on Aging and related programs, whose offices occupy the structure. - See more at: http://salina.com/search/Old-courthouse-tour-091310#sthash.T7iXqQsV.dpuf

How do we live out the mission statement of "making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world?" Sometimes, it's overwhelming. When you're at the bottom of the hill - or the bottom of a three-level staircase - and staring upwards, it's hard to see the end goal. Likewise, in a world where people are more likely to follow a celebrity on Twitter or check their status on Facebook than they are to attend church on Sunday morning or read the Bible each day, "making disciples" is an uphill climb.

But the only way to finish is to start. You have to get into the nooks and crannies and do the work - one detail and one step at a time.

 

At our evening worship service, organizers showed a video that featured several of the volunteer projects completed during our afternoon of service. Maybe this particular "cleaning volunteer" was a little envious that some of the other volunteers got to experience smiles and laughter while playing with children at a day care center or watched as a Mother walked away from a pantry with a newly-packed box of food so she could feed her children for another week.

But, there's something to be said for dusting, too. After all, Jesus did his own version of "dusting" before He went to the Cross. Jesus was having a final meal with his disciples in the Upper Room. But no one volunteered to clean the dusty feet of the disciples.  Until Jesus…

Jesus “got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet.”  (John 13:4-5)  ... Jesus said: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” (John 13:14)

See? Sometimes Love itself comes by washing away a little dust. It may even come when you're comparing the virtues of furniture polish brands with ladies who've come to the Senior Center for an afternoon game of pool. We may be rubbing out apathy and instead shining on compassion as effectively as that bottle of Windex and paper towel takes away grime from a streaked window.

As we ended our work at the Senior Center, a pastor asked the center's director to stand in the middle of a circle. We built our circle from the inside out, each of us grasping the shoulder of another, as we prayed for the ministry offered by the director and her staff and for the people who walk through the doors each day.

Later, I thought about all those hands and hearts joined together in work and prayer. I've always heard there's no "I" in team. It's a favorite saying of coaches. I found it somewhat ironic that I personally was part of an "i" in a banner that decorated the Bicentennial Center. The banner used the photos of every delegate and every pastor who had come together for the Unifying Conference. My face happened to fall in the "dot" of the "i" in the word, "Plains."

In this instance, I'd have to say there was an "i" in "team." And in all the other letters, too.

And, yes, there was the essence of Christ Himself in that orange-scented fragrance of cleaning supplies and in the many hands that picked them up that day ... or helped a nursing home patient clap their hands to a praise song ... or skipped down a sidewalk with a laughing child.

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Teresa of Avila

A Casting Crowns song called, "If We Are the Body," says, in part:

If we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
There is a way.



There IS a way. 

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This post is my contribution to the Lovely Branches Ministries website for the month with the theme, "Serving God, Serving Others." Check out what my friends, Suzanne, and Keva, had to share at Lovely Branches. And, if you're close to Stafford, come by the Taste & See Coffeehouse, another of the LBMinistries.

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This week, I'm linked to MIchelle's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday and Jennifer's Tell His Story. Check out what other bloggers of faith have to say.

Tourist Trap

I'm not a world traveler, even though I did get my passport a few years ago. Just in case.

In fact, I've only left the good old U.S. of A. once. I was a fifth grader on a family trip to California. We crossed into Mexico, where we weren't allowed to drink or eat a thing until we returned to California mid-afternoon. We kids thought we were going to absolutely starve to death. In my parents' defense, they had a car filled with four kids, ages 12 and younger. Would you have wanted to chance a bout (or four bouts) of Montezuma's revenge? From my parental perspective today, it makes total sense that we were banned from brunching in Mexico. 

So, what's been my most memorable family vacation? That's what the ladies at Lovely Branches Ministries wanted to know this month. On the same family trip, I snapped picture after picture of the flower-covered floats in the Rose Parade. Too bad they were all in black and white. (See? My camera clicking began early. Randy is grateful every day for the advent of digital photography.)

Since Randy and I have been married, we've certainly visited some wonderful places. Our honeymoon was memorable. I snowskied for the very first time in March 1981 on icy Rocky Mountain slopes. My new hubby might not have been Olympic-caliber like Billy Kidd, but he'd been skiing several times. Throw in an agonizing toothache one night to go with muscles stiff from trying to stop myself from falling down a mountain: That's memorable. (For any newly engaged couples planning a honeymoon, I'm not sure I'd recommend it, but we have been celebrating anniversaries for 32 years now.)

We've done Disney World with Jill and Brent. (They will be thrilled I shared this photo.)

Two years ago, we left drought-stricken Kansas because my farmer husband was weary of watching our crops burn to a crisp. I'd say the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone was a worthy distraction. 
So were the Grand Tetons.

Within this space, the Creator
must have intended
to bring man in humility to his knees.
-- Margaret E. Murrie, 

Grand Teton Official National Park Handbook, 1984 

When Jill was at Vanderbilt for her dietetics internship, we loved visiting Nashville, whether it was music row or the Cheekwood Botanical Gardens.

We found plenty to do and see when Jill and Eric lived in Omaha, including the solitude and beauty of the Holy Family Shrine.

Brent's work on his master's degree took us to South Carolina where there was more Spanish moss than the cottonwoods of Kansas.

Boone Hall Plantation, Mount Pleasant, South Carolina

We made a side trip to Tybee Island, Georgia, where we watched the sun rise and where there were waves of water, not waves of wheat. Moving Brent to his first job took us to Kentucky and Morehead State University's beautiful Eagle Lake.

Eagle Lake, Morehead, KY, September 2012

It is a place to savor nature in all its glory, whether it's bathed in the humidity of a late summer day or the brisk, catch-your-breath bite of winter. 

 

Some of my favorite places recently have been zoos with our granddaughter, Kinley.

Those vacation images barely scratch the surface hidden among the 27,000-plus digital photos I have on my computer and the dozens of plastic tubs filled with film envelopes in my basement. 

So I was stopped in my tracks by a line in a book I was reading last month, RESTART Your Church by Dottie Escobedo-Frank:

Religion in our time has been captured by the tourist mind-set.

Eugene Peterson

The author was quoting Eugene Peterson, who translated the Bible into The Message:The Bible in Contemporary Language.

Escobedo-Frank explains her take on that statement:

A tourist merely visits a location, taking pictures, getting an overview and seeing sites from a distant viewpoint. A tourist thinks it might be great to live in the locale but is not ready to change addresses in order to know the life of the town he or she is visiting. A tourist Christian is one who is merely ogling the lifestyle without developing a relationship with the town mayor and with the townspeople. Tourist Christianity is unwilling to suffer, sacrifice or remain faithful.

From the book RESTART Your Church by Dottie Escobedo-Frank

I don't know why I'm surprised when things like blog themes and the book I happen to be reading fit together like puzzle pieces. My friend and fellow LBM blogger, Keva, would call it a God Wink. I would have to concur.

It reminded me, too, that beauty is in my backyard every day. I don't have to travel to Mount Rushmore to find it. I don't have to pack my carry-on for a weekend trip to Chicago. It is all around me, every single day.

If you begin to live life 

looking for the God 

that is all around you,

 every moment becomes a prayer. 

–Frank Bianco, U.S. journalist and photographer

It's hard to miss the beauty in the "big" things ... the mountains, the ocean and monuments. But sometimes, in our haste to look forward to the next "big thing," we miss the myriad of small things around every single day. 

Beauty is found in the church pews, seeing the familiar faces, week after week. It's in the faces and voices of the children who sometimes skip up the church aisle to children's story time. It's found as we make apple butter in the church kitchen for the annual United Methodist Women bazaar. It's nestled next to the box of crayons that someone brought to the church for the school supplies collection drive.

It's found along the ditches as I walk along my dirt road.

Today, I will cherish the small things ... the tomato fresh from the vine, a favorite song on the radio, a phone call, the touch of a hand, the compliment I don't think I deserve, the email from a friend, the smell of freshly-turned earth on an early morning walk, a cool house on a hot day. Small blessings abound, if we just pause to look for them. They don't have to be carved into rock in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

I want to look at my everyday places with the eyes and the wonder of a tourist. But it needs to be more than that. I don't want to just "ogle the lifestyle." I want to live it in the way that God calls me to be a part of it. It's all about getting to know the Mayor Himself. Then it's about listening to His voice as He urges me to be His hands and feet on this beautiful Earth - whether I'm here on the County Line in Kansas or on a mountaintop in Colorado.

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When we visited Brent in Columbia, S.C., in 2011,  we had an non-traditional Thanksgiving meal,  including shrimp we bought right off the dock.
If you'd like the recipe for Baked Shrimp Scampi and Cheese Grits, just click on this link. After visiting the south, I add cheese grits to our menu here in Kansas on occasion. And every time I eat them, I think of those shrimp boats at sunset in Mount Pleasant, S.C.

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I'm linked to Michelle's Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday and Jennifer's Tell His Story. Click on the links to read more from bloggers of faith.

This is also my August post on Lovely Branches Ministries website. Check out the resources there.

A Father With a Mother's Heart

Thanks to Morgan Hildebrand for allowing me to use her chick photos from Priority Ranch, Stafford, KS. Check out her blog, Priority Ranch and see more photos of the chickens and other animals they raise on their farm.

... How often I have longed to gather 
your children together,

 as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings ...

Matthew 23: 37

The animal kingdom at our farm doesn't include hens and chicks. But as I read those words from Matthew 23, I think back to my grandparents' farm. Each spring, they would purchase baby chicks and put them under heat lamps in the brooder house until they grew big enough to survive without the extra pampering. When I was a child, I loved seeing those little balls of yellow fluff huddled together. I loved touching their downy feathers. They weren't nearly as cute when they grew up to be hens, and we had to move them out of the way to get to the eggs in the hen house.

Photo by Morgan Hildebrand, Priority Ranch

But even as I remember the pecking and racket of the hen house, I think about it a little differently now as a mother and grandmother - and I as read the words from Matthew. 

While most often we hear about "God the Father," the Matthew 23 verse gives us that maternal essence of God.

The birthing process is God’s idea. He’s maternally given birth to the universe, birth to our planet, and birth to us. Most importantly He’s given us re-birth. Simply stated, He is Father God with a mother’s heart. Waiting to wipe every tear; sitting up with us through the night; and listening to our troubles—solving them while we are yet speaking. 

Christian Author Susan Watkins

Each year, I am mystified by motherhood as we work with our cow/calf herd on our South Central Kansas farm. When we move the cow/calf pairs to different corrals or pastures, we separate the mamas and their babies to keep the babies (and the humans) safe.

The mamas don't realize we are doing it for a purpose. They protest - LOUDLY - when they are on one side of a fence ... and their babies are on another.

They bellow at the barn because they know their babies went that direction on the way to the trailer. Then they move the protest to the fence and watch as the trailer leaves them behind.

It's always amazing to me when it's time for the mamas and babies to reunite. The babies barrel out of the trailer in search of their mamas. 

It doesn't take long before the "lost" is again found by each mama and welcomed home for a nuzzle and a snack.

And isn't that how God seeks us? Our Heavenly Father has a mother's heart.

He seeks us when we're lost. (Luke 15: 3-6). He numbers the hairs on our heads (Luke 12: 6-8). He rejoices over us. His thoughts about us outnumber the grains of sand (Psalm 139). Isn't that just like a mother?

Happy Mother's Day to my Mom ...

Me and my mom, 1957

and to my daughter. She did the important job of making me a grandma.

 

It's a pretty wonderful job description! I think there's a little Grandma in our Father God, too!

Kinley & me at the Topeka Zoo - April 2013

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Since 1988, I've shared Mother's Day weekend with Brent's birthday. Happy Birthday today to Brent! He's celebrating today by working a Morehead State University baseball game. As far as I know, there won't be any Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle-inspired cakes in the press box. But he did get homemade Chex mix in the mail from me.

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Be sure and check out Morgan Hildebrand's blog, Priority Ranch. Again, I thank her for allowing me to use her chick photos. We have our share of cattle and cats here on our farm, but you'll want to see the menagerie of animals that live at Priority Ranch and the people who care for them. Click on the link to "visit."

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This is a version of my Food for Thought blog on the Lovely Branches Ministries website, where the theme this month is "The Mystery of Motherhood." My friend, Suzanne, talks about the power of a positive Mom on her blog, Heart and Home Matters.  

If you're anywhere near Stafford, you'll want to visit the Taste and See Coffee House, also a ministry of Lovely Branches. Click on the link for hours of operation.  

Changing "I'm Fine" to "I'm Thankful"

 "I'm fine."

It's the automatic response, it seems, when someone issues the familiar greeting, "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

We say it whether we really mean it - or we don't. It's the socially acceptable way to respond. We may be clinging onto life as tenaciously as an icicle after the sun comes out, but, by golly, we're "fine."

A recent email devotional from The Upper Room challenged me to think about a new response.

It's "fine" to be "fine." That's certainly better than giving a Top 10 list of all the ways I'm not fine. But how would life change if I followed the author's cue and instead responded, "I'm thankful!" 

He says that his "I'm thankful" response often elicits a conversation starter when the questioner probes, "Why are you thankful?" But even if it doesn't evolve into anything more than a pleasant response, it just might remind me to BE more thankful.

Let's get real though. Some days, it's a lot tougher to be thankful. Sometimes, the day and life circumstances make you feel heavier than ice on trees during a spring ice storm. It's all you can do not to break.

But we're still supposed to be thankful, instructions we're given all throughout the Bible, including
Psalm 105:  

Psalm 105

¹ Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name;
    make known among the nations what he has done.
² Sing to him, sing praise to him;
    tell of all his wonderful acts.
³ Glory in his holy name;
    let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
⁴ Look to the Lord and his strength;
    seek his face always.

⁵ Remember the wonders he has done,
    his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced,
⁶ you his servants, the descendants of Abraham,
    his chosen ones, the children of Jacob.

Sometimes, in my efforts to find the silver lining, I search and search and search - kind of like an old-fashioned scavenger hunt. It's tough to find the silver lining in a storm.

We're still awaiting the verdict of the effects of last week's ice storm on the 2013 wheat crop. Time will tell.

It's often easier to see the worries ... the slights ... the disappointments ... life's everyday "stuff" that weighs me down ... than it is to see the things for which I am thankful. 

It's sometimes tough to find the sparkle ...

... until the sun comes out.

Then it reminds me, I should be seeking the Son all the time.

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I wrote a modified version of this post for Lovely Branches Ministries' April theme, "April Gladness." Click here to see it. And, while you're there, check out blogs by my friends, Keva, who writes about conquering her fear of the espresso machine at the new Taste and See Coffee House in Stafford, and Suzanne, who gives you some great gardening tips. (You know you won't be getting gardening tips from me!)

If you're near Stafford, check out the Taste and See Coffee House at 111 West Broadway. Click here for the hours.  The Grand Opening event is next Saturday, April 20, from 7 AM to 9 PM, with tasty treats and live music. You can also "like" Taste and See Coffee House on Facebook for info on special treats and special events.

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I'm also linked to Michelle DeRusha's weekly faith feature, Hear It On Sunday, Use It On Monday and Jennifer Dukes Lee's Tell His Story. Check out what other bloggers of faith are talking about this week.