My family is a mine of anecdotal wisdom and quippy responses. I have many favorite sayings from them over the years. There’s Grandma’s “Poop or get off the pot,” Grandpa’s “Crack your own whip,” and of course Nana’s “Emotions make a great caboose, but a terrible engine” line. There’s my dad’s “You’re grounded for life” bit and “Anyone want pie?” (a running tension breaking joke in our hard-headed Hanzel conversations).
As the Southern Baptist convention begins its annual meeting, a frequent fixture will be missing. She is the woman we’ve met through countless books, Bible Studies, and speaking engagements. The woman that I and every other gregarious, blonde, passionate Bible teacher from anywhere near Texas has been compared to, but who is truly incomparable: the one and only Beth Moore.
I have served on the Council Road staff the past six months, and every Monday I sort through the prayer requests from Sunday services to bring to staff meeting where the staff prays. It is a rare week that we don’t get a request from a concerned mother asking for prayer for her struggling child. Some sign their names, others are anonymous…
Meet my friend, Julie Hardell. We share a deep love for many things—our church and serving there, the ocean, a circle of girlfriends we’ve shared for more years than either of us prefer to admit, and the birthday month of March. One of my favorite memories with Julie is of us chasing dolphins on paddle boards in the ocean. But there is one thing we do not share and that is Julie’s gorgeous head for numbers.
