5 Friday Favorites: July 11, 2025

It's time for my Friday link up with A Little Bit of Everything and Momfessionals. 

On Fridays I share things that made me happy from the week - a photo, a song, a quote, a beauty product, a recipe, a pair of cute shoes, etc. If it's a product, sometimes it's something I actually own and sometimes something I just saw online that gave me a smile. Sometimes it's serious and sometimes it's silly. I suppose I believe that God is in the simple details of life and yes, I can even find Him in a tube of lipstick.

Hello from a hotel in Grand Rapids, Michigan. “Baseball tournament?" you ask. Shockingly, no. This is the first summer in well over a decade that I do not have a kid playing summer ball. Drew injured his shoulder during the spring season, so he is rehabbing at home this summer. So, after years and years of dreaming of writing a book for Jesus, I finally decided that this summer I would attend the Speak Up Christian Writers Conference. It has been an amazing experience and I’ve gotta hustle to get to my first session this morning, so here are some quick favorites from this week and a repost from a couple of years ago for our 5th favorite.

1. Revision Skincare YouthFull Lip Replinsher

This favorite comes at the suggestion of my new friend, Cara, who raves about this lip balm. She told me about it on the airplane as we were on the way here and we promptly both added to cart since it’s on sale for Prime Days at 30% off. I also highly recommend the  Revision Brightening Facial Wash which is 24% off today.

2. Sleeveless Button Down

If you’re looking for a very basic white, but super versatile sleeveless button-down, I’ve got you. I ordered this top a few weeks ago and I love the quality of the fabric, the fit and the tortoise shell buttons. It’s 26% off for Prime Days making it only $18.39. I think I’ll order another one because experience tells me that there’s a good chance I’ll spill something on this one.

3. Prayer to the King by Highlands Worship

The conference planners posted this song before we arrived encouraging us to listen. It’s such a beautiful reminder to keep our ultimate purpose in mind no matter what kind of work the Lord has called us to do.

4. Pocket Sized Jesus

My friend, Cara, strikes again with another contribution to 5 Friday Favorites and perhaps my very favorite thing of the week. She slipped me this pocket-sized Jesus during one of the sessions of the conference yesterday and it made me giggle and feel immediate peace. How great is it to be able to hand your friend a little Jesus when she looks a bit overwhelmed?

5. Where Else Would I Go?

The tragedy at Camp Mystic and the surrounding areas of my beloved home state of Texas has rocked so many of my sweet hometown friends and family members. This feeling of helpless brokenness brought me back to something I wrote in 2022 after the horrific shooting at a Ulvade, Texas elementary school.

Today many, even those who write about the goodness and trustworthiness of our God, feel angry and unseen. We don’t know if we can even talk to God, much less what we would say. As Ann Voskamp put it this week, “How do we speak to the same God who didn’t speak to the storm? How do we currently run to the One who didn’t still the racing current?”

I felt that same way in 2022. I feel it so deeply today. Perhaps you do. too.

Originally written May 2022:

For over ten years I've been writing in this space. About my family. About parenting. About the Texas Longhorns and the Freedom Eagles and the Loudoun South AllStars. About skin care products and a cute pair of shoes I saw. But mostly, at least in some small way, I've written openly about my faith. Whether directly by citing Scripture or just by sneaking "a little Jesus" in here or there, I've always felt a calling to share that although I've had great loves in my life - my parents and brother and sister, my husband and my three little boys - Jesus Christ has always been the greatest, most enduring, most trustworthy love of my life. 

Lately, due to other writing and speaking projects and life in general, I just stop in here on Fridays with some favorites of the week. Most of the time, Jesus shows up in those Five Favorites in one way or another. I've missed some weeks for sure, but I try to be consistent - mostly for me and also for the odd reader or two that lets me know they appreciate my showing up here.

This week, as it has at other times over the years, writing about my favorite things seems selfish. It seems frivolous and tone deaf. Today it seems practically impossible. 

But I am drawn to this keyboard. I can't seem to stay away. So I find myself here in the dark early hours of a Friday morning with the glow of the computer lighting my desk and a cursor blinking at me. And I'm wondering if I will even post these words at all. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. It is the way I speak to God. It is often the way He speaks to me and maybe, sometimes, through me. But the words I've been saying to the Lord in the past few days aren't necessarily the sweetest. They might not be appropriate for public consumption. Because this faith of mine? This God of mine? We're on some shaky ground right now. 

There are so many words out there about what happened in Texas this week. So many voices. I don't think it necessary or helpful for mine to be added to them. So, instead, I’m going to share what's been going on with the Lord of the Universe and me in the aftermath. These words will not be funny. Or sweet. Or charming. They might be offensive. But they're honest. 

Maybe cursing at God is not what you showed up for here. I get it. I'd much rather write about the mascara I bought last week or the baseball victory we had or the laughter that happened on Tuesday evening when all three of my boys were home to sit around the dinner table together. It so happened that on that same Tuesday evening a bunch of parents in Texas found themselves with empty tables, empty bedrooms, empty arms. 

Just last weekend, I was the guest speaker at a local church. I delivered the message to a congregation that included two of my boys. When my boys are listening, I am more nervous and more prayerful that I'll get the message God has given me right. This was a message I believed so deeply in that my voice shook with conviction at the end and my eyes filled with tears in the final prayer. I reminded the congregants that God sees them. I reminded them that God has a plan for them . . .that not one of God's people is invisible. Not one is forgotten. Not one is alone. To close, I looked directly at my children imagining the Lord looking at them as He does at every single child in the Universe and said, "He sees you. He is your biggest fan. He will never ever look away. Please, please don't forget it."

And then Tuesday night I crawled into bed next to my husband. In the dark, with tears rolling down my face and anger consuming my words, I spat out, "Everything I said feels like BS right now. Everything I said feels foolish. Everything I said feels empty. How are the boys supposed to believe a word of it? How are they to believe in a God who sees?" 

On a personal - perhaps selfish - level, I felt ashamed and embarrassed and so violently angry I could barely see straight. The truth was that I felt betrayed by the God who I've been pointing people to for years and years. Where was the promise to not look away? Where was my God on Tuesday afternoon in Uvalde, Texas? Where was He?

I would like to tell you that my anger dissipated over night. But the next morning I scowled at the cross at the top of my church building even as I walked dutifully into my Wednesday morning Bible Study. I sat with my beloved group members. And I listened. And I shared. And they listened. And they shared. And they didn't judge me for my anger. Each one that spoke was trying as gently as she or he could to brush away the weeds and thorns that threatened to strangle my faith. Each reminded me in calm assurance that the message God had laid on my heart on Sunday was not a mistake. 

I left Bible Study to go to the outlet mall because I am nothing if not a gal who will fill up her God-sized hole with some discounted designer shoes. As I walked to my car with a couple of shopping bags that shockingly had not eased my anger, a pastor and mentor of mine called me. His wife had been in our morning study and had told him that I was struggling. I sat on a bench outside the JCrew Factory store as he listened to me and I listened to him. He reminded me in the most measured and confident way that my message on Sunday was right and it was true. He also said something along the lines of "if we aren't cursing at God at times then we're probably not paying attention and we're probably not being honest." 

As the day wore on my anger began to lighten. A little. A very, very little. As I drove home a story from the Old Testament came to mind. It was the story of Moses, Aaron and Hur from Exodus 17. When Moses tells Joshua that he must take his men out to fight the Amalekites, he assures him that he will stand on the hill to watch. Throughout the battle every time Moses has his arms raised, Joshua and the Israelites are winning, but when he gets tired and his arms fall, the Amalekites start winning. Eventually, Aaron and Hur provide a stone for Moses to rest on. They each hold his arms up - one on one side and one on the other. Soon enough, Joshua and the Israelites are the victors. 

That is exactly what my sweet friends did for me on Wednesday. They held up my arms. With open ears, tender eyes, calming words and "I've been there, too" nods and reassuring phone calls they held up my arms. 

So this morning, I'm reminded again that the Lord is patient. He will wait for our return. And when one believer's faith wavers, perhaps the best thing we can do is to lean heavily on someone else's faith. 

To be sure, whatever short-lived crisis of faith I might have encountered this week is nothing compared to the months and months, if not possible years, of the potential loss of faith of one who lost a child or a parent or a spouse on Tuesday. There is no comparison. Also, I understand that every single day across the world there are atrocities and tragedies that could compel any one of us to question the existence of a good and loving God. This is just my experience in the last few days. It's the only experience I have. The only one I have to share.

In the last 24 hours, as my stone cold heart softens bit by bit, I am slowly, but surely, lifting my eyes to Him again. And while I understand the idea that thoughts and prayers are not enough to take away the pain of my hurting friends right now, I know that I will be taking a place on either side of the broken to help hold their arms up whether they know it or not. 

The reason I know this? Because in addition to the story from Exodus, the words that Peter asks Jesus in John 6:68 keep playing on a constant loop in my muddled-up mind. After many of His followers abandoned him, Jesus turned to His twelve disciples and asked if they might also like to leave.

Peter responds, "Lord, to whom would we go?" 

This morning, after a few days of turning away from the Lord . . . after a few days of my arms growing weary and defeated . . . after a few days of being held up by a community of loving, gracious, kind believers . . . after a few hours of tapping out words in the darkness, I find myself crawling back. I find myself noticing once again that there is a light in the darkness. I find myself knowing in the deepest part of me exactly Who it is that holds the light - the One who has always held the light. In the end, as I await the sunrise, I find myself answering all of my questions with another question.

O Lord. Where else would I go?

Have a blessed weekend. And please keep praying for my Texas.