I’m supposed to be writing an article on beauty. On a day where I feel anything but. Where I’m frustrated that my regular exercise doesn’t seem to be paying off, that due to a bout with pink eye earlier in the week I can’t wear eye makeup, that I have a zit the size of Kentucky on my chin. So here is my article, such as it is. There are no “before” and “after” pictures. There is no story of weight loss, bulging biceps and smaller clothes. There’s just … me. Earlier this year, to celebrate my 41st birthday, I got a tattoo (no haters, please; I’m a grown woman who knew exactly what I was doing—and why). It’s on my left forearm; in Hebrew, it says this:  I ...

Childbirth is a very personal experience. Everyone should have choices, though, and be informed as to what those choices are. Hospitals are not required for healthy birth; neither are episiotomies or epidurals. Birth is not primarily about the comfort of the mother, despite our cultural norms. It’s not convenient (but which part of motherhood is, really?) and it can be very painful. But rather than being about convenience or comfort, ultimately it’s about a healthy baby. That health can be achieved at home, with the assistance of a midwife (although I can tell you a true story about a dad who delivered his fourth child at home—without the midwife). When I tell people I had ...

I love my refrigerator. No, really. I do. Seriously. I love to go grocery shopping and fill up my fridge with good things. I’m something of a food snob (or so my nearly 15-year-old daughter tells me), so I love to see good quality, healthy food in my refrigerator. I’ve been known to actually stand for a few minutes, gazing into my fridge, admiring its contents. I fill my refrigerator with good things for my family: healthy veggies, fruits, always good salsa, and my favorite—good cheese. I love cheese. Adore it. If I ever win the lottery (which I assume one actually has to play in order to win) I am going to my favorite grocery store and going absolutely hog wild in the cheese ...

“To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” ~Ecclesiastes 3:1 (Or The Byrds, depending.) I live in Texas, which means we generally have two seasons: summer, and not summer. Summer is characterized by hot, sunny, hot, hot, sunny, more hot, and the occasional thunderstorm. Every year, right around the middle of August, my husband and I begin the discussion about why exactly we stay here; we conclude the discussion—every time—with, “Well, it’ll cool down. Eventually.” And it always does. Of course, “cooling down” to a Texan involves nighttime temperatures below 85 degrees and daytime highs right around 90. Which, after a summer of multiple ...

I love superhero movies. Love. Adore. They truly are my favorite movie genre, right up there with the epic (Lord of the Rings still gives me goose bumps). Why, you might ask, do I love them so much? Recently I found myself pondering this very issue. There was a new romantic comedy being released that several of my friends really wanted to see—and I didn’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with those types of movies, but they just don’t interest me the way a good action/adventure does, with some good pyrotechnics, gravity (and death) defying feats and the occasional costume. As I sat watching The Avengers earlier this summer, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The beauty of ...

I have a confession to make. [Deep breath] I’ve been having an affair. It’s a rather torrid affair; been going on for about 16 1/2 years now. We have regular rendezvous, we’ve been known to run away together now and then, and I just can’t seem to get enough of him. We have a secret life, known only to the two of us. Ok, ok, you got me. You can relax now - yes, I’m talking about my husband. But seriously, for the last 16 years, we’ve been carrying on a passionate love affair with each other. Through times when other things in our lives were difficult, even contentious, we’ve managed to maintain a deep, abiding passion for one another; the bedroom’s always been ...

I recently took part in throwing a baby shower for a young friend. No, I take that back. I showed up, changed a light bulb, threw some frozen quiches in the oven, and washed dishes. Other people ‘threw a shower.’ It was like channeling Martha Stewart in there; monogrammed cupcakes, streamers made out of bibs, and water with orange slices neatly arranged. Orange slices. My friend, at whose house all this took place, and I were standing in awe as the troops moved in, efficiently turning her kitchen and dining room into a virtual showplace, decorating tables with food ‘staged’ at various heights, and a large bouquet of flowers made out of crepe paper. Oh, yeah, and homemade ...

It's summertime, and that means pools, heat, ice cold drinks and vacations--even for us here at Destiny in Bloom. Hopefully you're reading this poolside, beachside or just relaxing somewhere, enjoying family and friends. For the month of July, beginning this Monday, July 2, we're providing a look back, including some of the best and most popular articles from 2010-2011. You may remember some of them, and some might be brand new to you. Each week will have a different theme, and you'll have a chance to read some old favorites with new eyes. We'll be back at it in August, with new content and new perspective. Thanks for letting us take the time to relax and reconnect with our families ...

Once upon a time, there was a box. Within this box, there was another box, and another inside that, and so on and so on and so on. There were so many boxes, in fact, that no one really knew just how deep the interior of the box really was. They thought they knew, though. They looked at the outside of that box, and it was pretty to see. Sometimes. Sometimes someone would look just the wrong way at the box, and see a mark or a chink or something that wasn’t quite right; but then they’d look again, and it would be gone. Everything was smooth and perfect again. And it was perfect. Sometimes. Sometimes it seemed a little fragile, despite the many layers inside. Sometimes if ...

“And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us? And if our God is with us, then what could stand against?” The words on the screen were in three different languages: English, Hebrew—and Arabic. The song was being translated into Russian, German and a few other languages. The worship team was made up of Jews and Arabs, all worshipping together—and smiling, as if they actually liked one another. I was standing on the top of Mount Carmel, in the middle of the most colorful room I’d ever been in—and I don’t mean the walls. The term “every nation, tribe and tongue” took on new meaning as I listened to the voices of about 400 people from all over the world, raised ...