November 2, 2017 KimHarms

I wrote the following little story several years ago as a guest blogger at Leanne Shirtliffe’s website. I recently started receiving spam comments with advertisements for Cial@s and Viag@a and realized this post was the culprit. I guess if you mention male anatomy multiple times in a post, crazy drug companies will find you eventually. (You’ll notice I added an @ symbol to certain words in the hopes of avoiding more comments from prescription drug companies) 🙂 Reading through the story again made me giggle. I’m reposting it today in the hopes of making you giggle too. My Lewis was five…

October 6, 2017 KimHarms

It has long been a prayer of mine that God would make me aware my children’s gifts and talents. And that He would help me to be a dream cheerleader not a dream squasher. I used to watch my friend, Cinnamon, (yes that’s her real name) and think, “She’s got this mom thing figured out. I want to be like that.” When my boys were just toddlers, I watched her let her 15-year-old daughter play in a band. She invited that band to practice (drums and all) in her house. And she supported them when they sought out coffee houses…

July 19, 2017 KimHarms 2Comment

I sat on the deck overlooking the Rocky Mountains in the cool of the morning. Coffee in one hand, Kindle in the other. I’d been reading through the New Testament, but for a change of pace I downloaded a little vacation devotional from Amazon for our week in Colorado. On our first morning in Granby, I read this prayer. Heavenly Father, Awaken my spiritual eyes to see you fully, in all your glory. Give me discernment to see beyond what my physical eyes will allow. Amen. The prayer struck me as odd considering I was getting an eyeful of God’s…

June 27, 2017 KimHarms 4Comment

Photo courtesy of Rachel Vespestad Every time I drive past the high school building looming by the cornfields on the outskirts of town, my palms start sweating. Maybe because my high school friends scarred me for life by making me watch Children of the Corn in the 90s. More likely it’s because the sweet six pound baby, whose chest movement I observed closely on a nightly basis to be sure he was not dead, will soon be navigating the gauntlet of secondary education. It freaks me out a little. And it’s gotten me thinking about the things I…