Author: The Power Plant

Hello Autumn

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Hello Autumn! The holiday spirit is in the air and soon to be upon us…Fall Break, Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and Christmas.

In the nonprofit world and somewhere sandwiched in between all of the ribbons, festivities, and chaos is a single day, the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, dedicated solely for charitable giving…it’s called Giving Tuesday. It’s on this day and at this time of year when nonprofits like The Power Plant make their last appeals towards your generosity….and the extra cash while you still have it!
Last year, we did not make a formal appeal to you for a year-end gift. This year we are asking if you would consider making a meaningful donation to The Power Plant…perhaps one equivalent in value to a couple of spiced lattes? Or one equivalent in value to those cute boots you’ve had your eye on? Maybe an amount even larger that you would like to spend…well, differently this year?

Whatever amount you can afford and are willing to give will be whole-heartedly received, and we guarantee it will be a worthy investment.  

Thank you for following us on this journey and supporting the work that we do. We are truly grateful.

Blessings and warmest greetings to you and your family!
Andrea Gehrett

No Passport Required

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Tropical paradise. This was the recent venue for my husband and I to disconnect alone in the sands of serenity for the first time since our honeymoon. I didn’t realize how much we needed the rest until we began our journey home and the weight of the world began to creep back onto our shoulders.

A struggle of the flesh arose, if you will, as I instantly missed my shaded palm and salty breeze. Desires to live in the lap of luxury toyed with my mind and fanned a dissatisfaction with in me. Thoughts of aborting mission, taking an easier career path, and aligning my professional credentials in exchange for extra zeros at the end of a paycheck poked at me like a sharp stick. After all, I really wanted to see that palm tree again….sooner than later.

Then came the reality check. My tropical fantasies actually only lasted about 0.2 seconds, because deeply rooted within who I am is this higher calling…an irrevocable mission…an invitation to join Jesus in His works and an appeal to be at peace with a lifestyle that doesn’t always fit the mold of our modern culture. It grounds me, and I know the mission He’s set before me is exactly where His power, presence, and grace will most manifest.

On our way home from the tropical paradise, I flipped through my passport. I sat in wonder thinking how blessed I’ve been to encourage others simply by being on mission with Him. Six different countries from the Amazonian jungles of Colombia to the former Soviet soils of Kyrgyzstan. These nations have been impacted, in some way, through missions He’s sent me on…ones you have supported.

I am now going on another mission trip, except this one will look different from the rest. I won’t get another stamp in my passport. Instead, I’ll be staying put. On this mission, I stand at the foot of a mountain, one primarily assigned to me. A mountain intended to prove to the world that it is, in fact, movable through the most unlikely vessel, me, because it’s in my weakness that He works His wonders. This mountain is called The Power Plant.

“Why is The Power Plant a mountain and why are you an unlikely vessel?” you might ask. Let me be completely honest and vulnerable with you for a second. To your question I would quickly respond that I often feel inadequate. Unqualified. Intimidated. It’s at this point in time that the guest house nears completion and I stare at the mountain. More boots-on-the-ground ministry will be taking place. More support and assistance will be offered to those in need. Yes, that’s the positive, warm, fuzzy-feeling side to this equation, but the other piece is life itself. It gets messy. People have traumas, addictions, and challenges that seem incomprehensible. Who am I to roll up my sleeves and attempt to climb this mountain? Just a simple believer who said yes. That’s all.

A week on the beach affirmed to me firsthand how significant my mission of encouragement, hospitality, and respite care is to the weary….to His beloved children. I hold to the fact that as Christians we are to be a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1) and are to surrender our very best. For me, The Power Plant guest house has been a sacrifice. It has been a labor of love and one with much attention to detail. Could I have finished it sooner and have done less work? Probably. But, the guest house in itself is a gift to those desperately needing an escape. If God gave His very best, Jesus, as a sacrifice on the cross then shouldn’t we give our very best as well? Shouldn’t we serve, give, and love with excellence

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m a terrible fundraiser. I hate closing the deal and making the awkward direct ask, “Will you support me?” In it, I am vulnerable and keenly aware that my strengths lie in other areas besides fundraising. I’m a worker bee. That’s who I am. However, fundraising is a necessary part of being a 100% support-based missionary.

So, with full disclosure of my weakness, I have to shout from the rooftops and brag for a second, y’all. God did this! The beauty in me being a terrible fundraiser is that God provided. I can’t take credit for any of it!

·         The house was purchased when there was no way on paper that the loan should have been approved.

·         Rezoning requirements on the loan were ignored that could have prevented the purchase

·         The 20% down-payment was available when I had no idea where it would come from

·         Multiple times donors sent unsolicited gifts in weird amounts almost to the dollar of a major purchase I had made in faith during the renovation

·         New volunteers have sacrificed time and caught the vision

·         The total renovation has completely been paid for in cash

·         Plus…I haven’t missed any meals

Bottom line…God provides. Praise Him for that…that’s what The Power Plant is all about…resting in His strength.

Our mission at The Power Plant has only begun, and as the guest house is close to being opened, I stand at the foot of the mountain, and I’m asking you to grab your walking sticks and partner with me on this mission. Let’s serve with excellence and watch Him work the next miracle! It will be a story to tell. 

Grace and peace,
Andrea Gehrett

All in Time

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All in time. His time, not mine.

As far as the guest house project goes, I have to repeatedly remind myself of that fundamental truth as my natural racehorse tendency is to want to cross the finish line….like….yesterday.

Time seems to stand still as it relates to construction progress but break the sound barrier as it relates to neglected paperwork and administration. What a conundrum. Before I realized it, months had slipped by since my last update to you. Please forgive me.

As I compile photos and videos for you, I am reminded that much work really has been done. I have had lots of volunteers, and it’s been a gift seeing which hands show up next. Rest assured that ministry is already happening at that house…mostly in me! Life lessons in humility, dependence, courage, and grace stare me in the face.

Occasionally, I think of my missionary friends across the world in circumstances like those in the aftermath of cyclone devastation. The work they do never stops and in their down time, they bathe out of buckets and sleep under tarps in the African wilderness. After a glimpse into their world, I am tempted to think that my contribution isn’t that great. Oh, the comparison trap!

Is greatness really measured by the one who sweats and suffers more, or is it measured by the One who sees our hearts and the simple desire to honor Him in all that we do? Both contributions are great….my friends’ work in Africa and my work in the mid-South. Both are worthy, because He called each of us in the body of Christ to do different things.

“If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired.” 1 Corinthians 12:17-18

I am grateful for the work I have been given. He knows it fills me up, but sometimes I sure do feel like the nose (i.e. my friends in Africa) have a smellier job than the part He has assigned to me…pun intended!

Once again, humility and dependence is met with grace. All that has been needed has been provided…in His time.

I am so thankful for all that has been done. I am so thankful for all the donors and all the volunteers. What beautiful servants’ hearts. I am thankful for the ministry that He has ordained for the guest house, ministry impact that has already begun. I am encouraged more than ever that this old jewel will shine sooner than later…in His time!

An enormous thank you for all who have played a part. May you also be filled and satisfied with the work He’s given you!


There are three different updates, so please watch them all!





Update: Phase 1 Completion

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Did you know that there are caregivers in our support group who didn’t have a single day off from their caregiving responsibilities in over 25 YEARS…until someone cared enough to change that?!

The stories are real. The people are real. And so is the struggle. That is why we are so passionate about getting our respite care guest house up and running as soon as possible. We have women on standby ready for a break!

See what we’ve accomplished so far, and how you can still join our cause. Please watch our video update.

Phase One of the structural and mechanical guest house renovations is essentially complete, and we are ready to begin Phase Two. Up until now we have done major repairs and upgrades to protect our investment. The next phase will be mostly cosmetic changes…the attractive part that catches most people’s attention!

If you didn’t get to join us in Phase One, it’s not to late to join us in Phase Two! We need YOU to help us meet our aggressive goal of completing the guest house by July 1, but we can’t do it without your contributions and without you sharing our posts with your church, friends, and family. Thank you in advance for your support!




manUnashamed…that’s the word that has powerfully resonated with me this week. Typically, I’m a faithful church-goer, not because I like to check-the-box and feel good about myself through regular attendance, but rather because I cherish God’s people and the value they add to my life through sound teaching and accountability.

I didn’t go to church this Sunday. I know the need for a Christian believer to settle into a church home, but I also recognize the liberties we’ve been given through the blood of Christ. Oftentimes, it’s when I’m outside the four walls of the church building and in the most random spots that God speaks most boldly to me. This Sunday was no different.

My husband has his own HVAC company and someone is always needing his services. Sunday I went with him as he ran a service call to work on someone’s heater and sat in the truck while he made his repairs. It wasn’t an affluent neighborhood and one I’ve heard several describe as sketchy. The houses are close together, yards generally unkept and littered with unexpected objects.

I noticed a man charge from a neighboring house. I couldn’t see his face, but he walked with fervor as if he were angry. I observed…had nothing else to do while I waited. He had something in his hand and walked rapidly out to the street light near the curb. Out of the box he took a piece of chalk and reached up as high as he could…on his tippy toes. He began to write. It was a concrete light pole with four flat distinct sides, so on each side he reached up high and wrote something until he reached the ground.

I wondered what the heck he was writing. In all of my negative-Nancy perceptions, I assumed he was writing something obscene or hateful. That was my judgmental stereotype of him based on the way he was dressed and from the looks of his yard. After all, I’ve heard it said that cleanliness is next to Godliness, right (said jokingly)? And his yard wasn’t that clean so I already had him pegged a certain way.

But when he got around to the final side of the pole facing me, I was ashamed and shocked with what I read. “Thank you Jesus.” And as he finished writing his message with urgency, he tucked his chalk back into the box, took off his coat, lit a cigarette, and sat in the nearby swing gazing off into distance.

About that time my husband emerged from the house and we were on our way. We had to drive into the cove where this man was to turn around, and I realized he had different messages on each side. The only other side I could read said, “Precious Jesus.”

Wow. What a powerful moment for me. What was his story? What had just happened to cause this grown man to fervently write this message to all who could see with such purpose? Had he just encountered the Savior and sat there in relief as all of his guilt was washed away?

I don’t know his story, but I know mine. And it left me wondering how many days I have complacently walked through this life not acknowledging how precious Jesus really is. How urgent the gospel message is. That one day a loving, but righteous, God will return and take His people home while those who have never accepted Christ and followed Him will be eternally sent to a place called Hell. That is the gospel in its simplest form. Jesus died for us. He loves us. We hear that part often, but the other part of the gospel message that seems to be muted is that those who die apart from Christ will go to Hell and have no second chance for redemption. Urgency. Yes, the gospel message is urgent. And Jesus is totally precious! He is the key and the only way!

I thank this man for reminding me that this week. It has been such a powerful moment that I’ve had tears just retelling the story. It’s the very thing I want others to feel as they encounter my Savior through the Power Plant. The Power Plant guest house is only a platform, a place, for God to meet women boldly right where they’re at. To see how precious He really is. It doesn’t matter if they’re churched, affluent, or purple. Hear me…there’s nothing particularly special about The Power Plant apart from Jesus…it’s Jesus who is precious, and without Him all of this is for nothing.

Join me in praying for bold encounters through this ministry and for each guest who stays at The Power Plant (and for completion of the house). May we all pause and ponder the preciousness of our salvation each day and act boldly and unashamedly with gratitude. The time is at hand, and none of us are guaranteed tomorrow.

Unashamedly His,

Andrea Gehrett

Will you spread the word?

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Dear friends,

Progress is happening at The Power Plant’s Guest House. We had many visitors at our open house, and we are deeply grateful for all who have helped and shown interest. What we need now is for you and your friends to share our video updates and the Project Plan (see below) with people who are mission-minded and love projects like this. The sooner we raise the funds to complete this project the sooner we can serve women in need. Please watch the video, and we thank you for your support!

For His glory,

Andrea Gehrett

Power Plant Guest House Project Plan:

Please don’t forget to click the following link to view the file and share with others!

power plant project plan

Why is our mission to plant seeds of hope in women?

“Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another; not lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer; distributing to the needs of the saints, given to hospitality.”  Romans 12:10-13

The prayer for our ministry is to lead women from burnout to the power of Christ.

“Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”  Romans 15:13

Open House

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Please come to our open house this Sunday, January 6th!

Tour The Power Plant’s new house at 4738 Highway 51 North, Senatobia, MS 38668. See the renovations that have begun and hear my ideas for the rest of the planned updates.

We will have open house from 1:00 – 5:00. This is a come-and-go event. You can stay four minutes or four hours…coffee will be served. I hope to see you then!



Muddy Pride

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A big storm came through Halloween night. My husband had just left to go out of town, and I was banking on a quiet evening at home with my daughter.

Just before the storm began, our two dogs took advantage of a golden opportunity to charge past my legs as I unsuspectingly opened the front door. Off they went across the pasture playing together and blissfully ignoring my call for them to come back. They did stop for a split second to turn around and look at me, and then they kept charging ahead into the woods that surround us.

They’ve done this before (without permission, of course), but each time they made their way back home safely. They surely had no idea a big storm would begin minutes after their escape and drop buckets of water on us for hours into the night.

My daughter and I stood post for hours, one on the front porch and one on the back porch, with flood lights on and yelling for them to come back. I was hoping the beacon of light would bring them back in…but it didn’t. Our voices faded with the pounding rain and probably wasn’t heard much further than our porches.

There are no roads where they went, so I had no choice but to wait out the storm and hope they would be on the porch in the morning. There were several times I woke during the night with some random sound only to be disappointed that our fur babies were not sitting there whining to come in. Silence.

The next day as a friend of mine was praying with me over their return, my phone rang the second she spoke, “Amen.” The caller did in fact find the older dog, Moses, a couple of miles from our home. She was able to track me down by calling our vet and using the rabies identification number on his tag. I was grateful to go get him that afternoon but disheartened that our younger four-month-old pup, Buck, was not with him. Somehow and somewhere they separated on their journey. If only Moses could talk.

I spent the next couple of days taping posters to the nearby stop signs and knocking on neighboring doors with flyers in hand. We live in a remote area of the county where houses are few and far in between. There are literally thousands of acres of undisturbed land around us, that is of course, except by mother nature.

Being out here has made me realize even more than ever that water is a powerful force with potential for great destruction. The landscape of ravines surrounding us proves this point. You could drop a whole neighborhood in some of these ditches and even the rooftops would disappear. So, when Buck went missing, my mind instantly thought of the dangerous ditches with steep walls and raging waters from the storm. 

Yesterday, I was resolved to go out and seek out my lost pup. The waters have already receded so walking the ditch was very doable. After a cup of coffee at first daylight and time spent thoughtfully stocking my backpack, hope led me into the trenches. I had charted my course the night before by downloading a hunting app that showed property boundaries and GPS coordinates using satellite imaging.  With this app and my compass available, I was ready to go get Buck. I had dogfood packed and if I found him injured, I had what was needed to haul him back home.

Four hours passed, and after wading through sandy, wet creek beds I found the end of our ditch. Luckily, I had enough cell signal to see where I was at on the map and to know how to proceed. Our ditch was only one of many that fed into a much larger river bed.

I had been praying for wisdom and discernment as well as for protection, because I knew there were water moccasins in that ditch and I had just seen a coyote the day before. To top it off, pit bulls are prominent in our area and gnashing teeth had chased me back into my car by a not-so-hospitable pit the day before when I handed out flyers. Thankfully, all I saw was a drove of peaceful turkeys on my hike.

Nevertheless, when I started into the seemingly empty river bed, each step felt more unstable. About twenty steps in and red flags were waving on the inside. This is not safe. It’s like quicksand. Turn around. Whatever lied ahead was not meant for me to see.

When I finally made it back to the house, my neighbor who had joined in on the search of the surrounding area pulled up on a four-wheeler. I debriefed him about my morning and that I found no signs of Buck. He asked if I wanted to search another large ditch in the opposite direction closer to his family’s land. Although I was exhausted, I said yes. I didn’t want to leave this search with any regret.

For the next hour I repeated the same process but in a different ditch. I told my neighbor the course I’d take and where we would meet back up. After about another hour of this, I found myself stopping in the middle of the ditch. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For the first time since Buck’s disappearance, I felt an overwhelming sense of despair coming over me. What I realized is that there are many ravines that split off of the few that I traveled. It felt impossible to search them all. There are thousands of acres for a young pup to encounter danger in the darkness of night and in a deafening storm. It’s a vast wilderness.

I stopped. The tears came, and I asked the Lord, “Am I a fool to keep looking?” I know some people must think I’ve lost my mind to be doing what I’m doing. By all appearances and by the world’s standards, the first 48 hours are the most critical to find someone (pup) that is missing. And we are past that point already. It’s been cold at night and more rain has sprinkled on us. If he has been injured, the cold surely would have caused shock by now. And what about the coyotes or vicious pits roaming at will? He wouldn’t stand a chance. And then there’s the random passerby on our country roads who might see a means to cash in on a dog with such a pedigree. ALL of these realities have certainly crossed my mind. And they circled back around to me in that moment in the ditch.

But what you don’t know are the things I’ve asked of the Lord. I know all these dangers. But I also know my God. Even if my pup was torn to shreds in the dark, I know my God could resurrect him and send him home. I know that’s a crazy thought for some. But don’t we serve the same God who brought life to dry bones and raised up Lazarus from his dead rotten stench-filled carcass? Why couldn’t God do the same now? The answer is…He can.  I absolutely believe He can. I don’t need to eyewitness it to believe it. And so I’ve asked for it. But in my asking of a miracle I realized that there was a period of waiting, at least as far as Lazarus was concerned. Jesus wanted his body to be unquestionably dead so that His resurrecting power was unmistakable. You see, that way He gets all the credit and glory for such a wonderful thing. I may have to wait longer for Buck’s return.

In the ditch, I had a crisis of faith and couldn’t go any further. I wrestled with my pride and wondered what people thought of me. Was I a fool? I’ve been called one before for my faith. No doubt about that. All it took was a seed of doubt for the enemy to get in my head and tell me how irresponsible I was for letting this happen. It’s the same old story I’ve heard before…I’m not worthy. Yes, that’s the lie the devil likes to whisper in my ear. But thanks be to God that all of those lies were negated the moment they were presented. Jesus’s response in my soul was, “What about Noah? Didn’t he spend years building a boat in a place that had never rained? People though he was crazy. What about Abraham? Didn’t he set out for a land and not know the destination? People thought he was crazy too. And what about Moses? Didn’t he lead the Israelites to the edge of an impassable sea with an angry Egyptian army fast on their heels? The people thought he was crazy and not worthy too. But these were all servants who walked by faith and not by sight.”

It was settled. I may look crazy for still believing that Buck will come home, and that’s okay. In reality, it may happen, and it may not. God doesn’t have to grant my request. But either way, I can’t help but believe that it pleases God to know that I truly believe He CAN do the impossible.

I had to come to the end of me. I’ve done everything humanly possible to find Buck. But since I asked for a miracle, I have to get out of the way and let Him work. Even if it requires the dreaded wait.

God’s favor is upon me, because the moment I swallowed my pride and set it all at His feet, I heard my neighbor’s four-wheeler in the field above. That wasn’t even the route for him to be on, but I heard him and tried scrambling up the vertical edge of the ditch. I did slide down a few times but was finally able to grab hold of a small root near the top and hoist myself up the muddy embankment. I pushed through the thorns and at that exact point in the field he turned off the machine and heard me call out his name.   

God will never leave us in a state of despair. His hope and His presence are the healing balm that keeps us moving forward in this journey. I do ask you pray with me that Buck returns home safely. And I can’t help but ask myself, and you too, “Will your faith continually take you to the ends of the earth and into the trenches regardless of what the world thinks of you?” It’s a question I have to keep asking so that I stay grounded. Perhaps you have a relationship barely holding on by a frayed thread. Perhaps you have a wayward child with a darkened mind who offers no hope of change. Perhaps you have an opportunity to pursue a new adventure, one in which God is leading. The world will surely tell you one thing, but what will God’s word and your faith in Him tell you? As scary as it all may seem, one thing is certain, God will be in the trenches with you wherever you go.

Thank you for reading this longer post and praying with me for a miraculous return. I believe in the power of prayer! (Psalm 86:17)
Keeping heart and faith,
Andrea Gehrett

Meet Buck

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Meet Buck. He’s a three-month-old Labrador Retriever. A water dog. Part of who he is and what he’s made to do is to enjoy the water. But even if his instincts tell him to dive right in, he has no experience, until now, with a deep pool of water. His gut tells him to go, but he’s afraid to keep going once those webbed paws feel no more slimy mud beneath them.

Just go, Buck. Paddle. Get that stick just beyond your reach. Today I didn’t have the desire to jump into a pair of waders and coax him into deeper waters which would give him a familiar focal point so that he would know that he can really swim, but I’d be willing to bet you a bunch of grins ‘n giggles that if I did he would’ve found the courage to keep going.

As I cleaned the yard of small sticks and deposited them into the pond one by one trying to get Buck to break free (sorry Dad!), I realized something. Isn’t Buck a perfect picture of how we often approach our spiritual journey? God made each of us to fulfill a specific purpose. But isn’t it frightening to leave the bank of familiarity and comfort? How often do we high-tail it back to “safety” and higher ground the moment we fear the water just might overcome us?

What if we are just like Buck realizing that we are experiencing something wonderful, but rather play it safe and grab the low-hanging fruit in shallow waters? What about that stick in the deep end? What if that’s the stick God really wants us to grab?

I want to thrive. I want to fulfill my God-given calling. I don’t want to live in the safety zone and never experience His wonder because I was afraid. I am thankful I’ve had some familiar faces who were willing to strap on a pair of waders and coax me into something fantastically frightening…my specific calling. The further out I go the more I realize I CAN swim. I was made for this. And it’s so wonderful.

God will never leave or forsake you (Deuteronomy 31:8). The water will not overtake you (Isaiah 43:2). What is He calling you to do today? What ministry has He set before you that might require taking steps further into the deep end? Or…what people has He placed in your path that might need a little coaxing and mentoring from a wiser, more experienced believer? Do you need to keep paddling? Do you need to grab a pair of waders?

Do not be afraid. He’s got you…and He has a plan for you, one that involves thriving and bearing much fruit (Jeremiah 17:8, John 15:8). May you experience His wonder as you learn to trust Him into deeper waters and go get that stick.

Off the Radar

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My passions lie in ministry work. While my focus is typically doing for others, my husband and I decided to do something really big for ourselves. We decided to build a house. That phrase has taken on new meaning, because when most people say they are building a house that usually equates to stroking a check at various points during construction. No judgement, because I’ve done it before too. But this time, we literally built our house. We sold our last house nearly two years ago, and it’s been quite a journey as we have jumped many hurdles on the way to victory. It took much longer than anticipated, but God has shown us much in the wait. His timing is always perfectly planned. I can’t say that I’ve always appreciated the wait (blood, sweat, and tears too!), but in hind sight I can always see His fingerprints on a season that doesn’t seem to align with my original hopes and expectations.

No, I didn’t intentionally go off radar all these months; I simply found myself committed to a project until its completion. After we would get off work, then our other work would begin, and sometimes late into the night. I keep saying that I’ve learned to breathe under water as some of the days have been completely overwhelming. “How ironic?” I’ve thought. I have a ministry to combat burnout. It stems from a piece of my own personal story, but yet human nature propels me to certain old habits, and one is to gravitate towards taking on too much. I am reminded of how important it is to be selective in the things we say “yes” to. I’m also reminded that it’s easy to lose sight of the forest for the trees and that’s when we most need to step back, take a deep breath, and count our many blessings….because there really are lots of them to count. They say its difficult to feel anxiety or stress when we have a heart of gratitude and literally name the things we are grateful for.

One truth has remained and always will…Jesus has been my source of strength, hope, and encouragement. I have found complete joy in Him even when I feel like I am about to grow gills from breathing under water.  And that’s when I realize…I am breathing…under water. He will always be with me, above or below the water…and He ain’t going to let me drown! Ever. He will gently bring us back up to the surface where its safe. Let us find our complete joy in Him today and realize that He is the oxygen that keeps us going!

A BIG shout-out to my husband for the work he has poured into our home. It is priceless. It has been a labor of love. It hasn’t come without sacrifice, aches, or pains. I am so proud of you and the home you built for us. Thank you!