![Breaking the Shell]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Jul 13, 2016 | Death, Streamroots Posts, Suffering, Surrender
Breaking the Shell Momma, I think she’s dying. My younger daughter had spent the weekend with someone most dear to our family, and I could hear the catch in her voice, carrying across the miles. She can’t get out of bed. Her systems are shutting down. In the... ![Leeks, Onions and Peanut Butter]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Aug 20, 2015 | Contentment, Goodness, Need, Streamroots Posts, Surrender
Leeks, Onions and Peanut Butter Seasons are curious things. Just when we begin to feel that we’ve mastered the challenges of a certain era in our lives, God ushers in a new phase. This post was written during a time of great challenge in the life of our family.... ![Finding Healing]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Jun 18, 2015 | Goodness, Healing, Hope, Streamroots Posts, Suffering, Surrender
Finding Healing Three years back, I leaned against a small table as evening shadows silently spread. Eyes downcast, the woman facing me worked to find the bare-hearted words to convey her pain. Her voice caught on the anguish, controlled only through the regimen of... ![Going Deeper]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Jun 4, 2015 | Beauty, Streamroots Posts, Surrender, Worship
Going Deeper Come on, my soul. Reading St. Augustine’s Confessions can be a bit daunting. It can also be a bit revolutionizing. It hasn’t been until the last few years that I’ve developed a taste for the writings of the early church fathers, and even... ![Digging Deep]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Feb 12, 2015 | Family, Joy, Motherhood, Streamroots Posts, Surrender
Digging Deep So often, life feels a bit like coal mining. Hard hats askew and faces smudged beyond recognition, we delve deep, desperate for the treasured deposits that warm our souls. But instead of hunting for fossilized pockets of carbon, we’re digging for molten... ![Into Glory]()
by Tiffany Nesbitt | Feb 4, 2015 | Faith, Family, Legacy, Streamroots Posts, Surrender, Trust
Into Glory Fears have a tendency to pile, layer upon layer, until the collected heap can seem to stand high and sharp against the heavens. My frail grandmother is grasping the final moments of her earth-days. It’s a painful thing, this passing from flesh and blood...
