Entering empty


It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s not even 7pm and I’m in my pjs, trying to stay awake until a reasonable time to call it quits for the day. I will not see the ball fall in Times Square. I will not watch the clock until it ticks at midnight. I will not participate in any activities involving fireworks other than trying to drown them out in order to rest. I will not welcome the new year in any other way than a good night’s sleep. I hope.

My thoughts about the new year have been somewhat void of excitement. I have plans that are good and goals to be reached, but they remain factual in nature, currently lacking the enthusiasm I’ve had in past years. 2017 has been, quite possibly, the most difficult year of my life and I am spent. David and Paul of the Bible spoke of their lives being poured out in the noble efforts of serving God and teaching others. My actions do not compare to their sacrifices for the cause of Christ, but the words poured out resonate with me in this time of reflection.

This year provoked an onslaught of emotion that I wasn’t expecting and which seems now to have sucked the energy from my soul. I began the year tired and only seemed to grow more so with each month that came and went as the duties of my new job increased, peaking with absolute exhaustion by summer’s end. But my hopes for a restful fall season were washed away by a hurricane. Literally. Experiencing the storm was profound and the recovery was difficult and exhausting, both physically and emotionally.

Then Mama died. The depth of my sorrow knows no end, the vacancy in my life impossible to be filled by anything else, my mourning so heavy it is as if I can’t breathe.

However, if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that my feelings do not determine what is or is not real, and certainly do not dictate what lies ahead. The emotions themselves are real and serve a purpose I may or may not understand. I had the energy in my younger years to suppress and ignore them. Besides the completely unhealthy nature of that approach, now I simply am too tired to hold them at bay. They have overtaken me whether I wanted them or not. I trust hindsight will sooner or later bring insight.

I’m not afraid of the future. My faith is intact, my confidence is not shaken, my resolve to move forward is sure. I’m simply entering the new year empty.

I’ve spent the day resting and praying, acknowledging my vast need for my Savior all the more, assured that He will come through at the right time and fill me once again with an enthusiasm for life. But for now, it’s ok to be empty. It’s enough to rest. Enough to be still and know He is God. It’s not a bad way to start a new year.

Psalm 46:10

Goodnight and Happy New Year!


Entering emptywas written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on





Her hands

mom's handAs agonizing as this photograph is for me, it is equally precious. I’ve photographed her many times, but trembled this day as I captured the image of her hand, our hands together, one last time. I don’t remember the days when I was small and she reached to hold my hand for guidance, protection, and comfort. As I reached for her hand this time, I don’t know if she knew I was there or not. And as much as I hoped she felt comforted by my touch, I know I was desperately grasping for my own comfort more.

Her hands became to me more beautiful with age. Except for the limitations presented by a weaker physical body, she really didn’t mind being old. She wore it gracefully. She would scoff at that statement as graceful is not a word she would have ever used to describe herself. For the better part of her life she remained always more a tomboy than a lady, strong and capable of doing things the average woman never considers. But she was graceful. She was full of grace.

DSC_0275_edited-1These are the hands I will remember. Hands that worked hard but were often gently folded in prayer. Hands that yielded plenty of discipline when needed but always provided the love that buffered any punishment imposed. Hands that were dampened with countless teardrops as she faithfully prayed over our lives, growing in her own faith with every silent word. I can’t remember ever hearing her pray aloud. That just wasn’t her. But I remember seeing her pray in silence throughout my life and that image taught me much.

It’s funny the things that make an impression. How the memory of something so simple, something that would normally be perceived as mundane, becomes something intimate and powerful to those who see its beauty. We are walking this grief road together, my siblings and I, past the difficult decisions that had to be made, now taking the time to share the little things in an effort to process the immense loss we feel.

The following is from one of my sisters:

Sorting Beans (2)“Physically, I never resembled Mother in any way that people took note of, but, especially as I have aged, I have noticed hand gestures that mimic hers. I was handling things pretty well today, but then I went to start a pot of pinto beans. When my hands pat out the beans on the counter to sort them, they are her hands. Today I couldn’t help but wonder how many thousand dried pinto beans her hands touched over the years. I don’t know when she quit cooking beans, but it was well after I left home. The patting the beans flat on the counter and sorting out the dirt clods, rocks, and bad beans was a ritual that I must have watched her do hundreds of times throughout my childhood. Today it made me cry.” 

Oh how we miss her.


Her hands” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on

Photographs by Kay Stinnett and Judy Webb and cannot be used without permission.


A few things she taught me


  • To say “yes, Ma’am” and “no, Ma’am” as an expression of respect, not an indication of age…
  • How to sew
  • That church was important
  • How to make a delicious pound cake
  • That good posture was important
  • How to sew a garment so that the inside looks almost as good as the outside
  • That manners are important, particularly at the dinner table
  • How to whistle loudly
  • That never saying “I told you so” is mercy in silent action
  • That just because you’re the mom doesn’t mean you are always the mediator
  • That family is important because everyone doesn’t have what we have
  • To be grateful because everyone doesn’t have what we have
  • That following Jesus means serving others even when it’s hard, inconvenient, and uncomfortable
  • To see people, not colors or culture
  • To be strong
  • To laugh at myself
  • That silent prayers are powerful
  • To live with purpose
  • To not fear death
  • To love

I expect she will continue to teach me still more in her absence ♥♥


A few things she taught me” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on

Even the high places have rocks


There are times getting away is an absolute necessity. The weariness of months of almost non-stop activity became unbearable when the hurricane blew into my life. It left me empty and broken and hurting, precariously hanging by the proverbial thread. So in the middle of duties undone and responsibilities unfulfilled, I took time off. I have family in the foothills, so in my need of deep soul healing and rest I made arrangements for a visit. And while there I went to a high place to meet with God.

Compared to living in an area that isn’t that much higher than sea level, just about any place you go is a high place. The high places of the bible, however, were not necessarily defined by elevation. They were places designated for worship, for meeting with God. Jesus changed that by giving us His Spirit to dwell within, but there’s still something to be said for finding a way to meet with God in your own high place. A place where intentional worship will occur. Worship that is free to be messy and frustrated and tearful and even angry if that’s what needs to be dealt with. I believe the greatest worship we offer God is our attention, acknowledging He is, fearlessly coming to Him with no pretense that we are anything but who we are in that moment.

I found a place beside still waters where I set up “camp” – my folding chair, my blanket, my bible and journal, and of course, my coffee. I had determined to stay until I heard God. It was a perfect day with cool temps, a bright blue sky, low mountains in the distance. I sat for a while just taking it all in. The beauty of nature has always moved me and this day was no different. Combine that with the events that preceded this escape and the tears flowed readily. I knew it shouldn’t and couldn’t be rushed, this seeking of answers from God.


I’d opened my bible to Isaiah without a lot of forethought, flipped through the pages and stopped at the first thing I saw highlighted – “but those who wait for the Lord…” (40:31). I wasn’t even giving it much thought when I looked up and saw three bald eagles effortlessly moving above. If you are not familiar with the rest of that verse, it speaks of renewing your strength and soaring as eagles. God’s good that way, you know?

I knew this time wasn’t going to be one of lengthy bible passages or deep, wordy prayers, but rather just “being still and knowing”. I got up to walk along the edge of the water, exploring the view surrounding me. Now, if you’ve ever been in a mountainous area you know you there are rocks. Lots of rocks. To walk along a shoreline every step must be strategic lest you want to face plant on the stones or take a tumble into the waters. Honestly, I’d rather walk on pristine white sand with clear blue water washing in waves over my feet, mindlessly moving along, not having to measure every step. It’s hard to walk on rocks.

We have a tendency to think that if we’re obedient, if we’re following where God leads, if we keep our hearts right and strive to learn and grow, the walk will become smoother, easier. And it does. But there will always be rocks. There will always be people He brings into our lives that grate on our nerves. There will be responsibilities that He calls us to that are difficult and frustrating. There will be challenges as He moves us into the uncomfortable. There will be pressures demanding action and questions He seems to be slow to answer. There will be rocks.

I returned to my chair, picked up my bible, and begin to skim the next few verses. One phrase was repeated several times and caught my attention “…I will help you…”  I’ve had some wonderful times with God in the past when many words were exchanged and I was led to intense study. This was not one of those times. The four words of that phrase brought me more peace than I’d experienced in months. There were details I still wanted Him to speak to, situations for which I still needed His counsel, wounds that needed to be healed. But this day it was enough to know He would help me. This day was to worship amid the rocks in the high place.


Even the high places have rocks” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on





A public apology


You know those times that you mess up and you just can’t seem to let it go? You confess, you know that God has heard you, you’ve apologized to the one you’ve wronged yet you just can’t let it go…

I was one of the speakers at an in-house ladies retreat at my church this weekend. It was a wonderful spa-themed event and I was excited about the portions of the Psalms I would share with the ones who had taken time out of their busy lives to come and listen. The passages and topics of the morning had been very meaningful to me and I was under no impression that what I would share was any more or less important than these.

I was up after lunch and hopeful that I could say what I had on my heart before the after-lunch-sleepies set in and I would begin to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher… wawawawawa… Time always goes quickly when I speak and before I knew it, I had committed the #1 sin of conference speaking – I had overrun my time and left virtually nothing for the speaker following me who was to close out the event. Sigh.

Normally I have a designated person within direct eye contact range who is given the assignment of helping me end on time, someone who will hold up a written 10 minute warning or give the universal shut-up symbol of a knife being drawn across the neck. I neglected to acquire such assistance today. It was my understanding that yes, we were running a little behind schedule, but we would be extending the end time by a few minutes to wrap it up. I was wrong. No excuses, I should have confirmed. I should have been more considerate. I should have…shut up. Sigh again.

I did apologize to my fellow presenter, twice. I prayed as I left and again as I ran my afternoon errands, and more when I got home but I couldn’t shake that yuck feeling. So as I was winding down my activities this evening and finally got still it occurred to me what was left undone – I needed to apologize to all the ladies who attended the retreat. Not only had I taken from this speaker the time and prayer she had invested in being God’s voice today, but I had caused others to miss something God wanted to say to them. I owe them that.

One of my topics today was the prayer of confession and more than a few times God has required of me that mine be made more openly known than just in my quiet corner with Him. He’s like that sometimes.

So, ladies, I hope this finds its way to you because I am truly sorry. Please share this with those who are not on social media or the internet or who may have been visitors to our event. To the ladies ministry team: should you ever dare to invite me to be a part of this event in the future, please give me the last time slot – following her.

Oh, and did I mention the speaker following me was my pastor’s wife? Yeah, let that sink in…  


A public apology” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on

There are victories to be won


heart of hands

Where do I begin? The events of the last two weeks have rocked our world again. Emotions have driven hasty words, hurtful words, divisive words, all in a desperate attempt to cast blame because surely if we can point a finger at the culprits we will feel better. We will feel as if we have affected change. But is that the kind of change we really want? To step into the battle blindly believing that anger will stop anger, hate will stop hate?

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”  John 16:33

 We have been called to a maturity that requires we lay down our opinions and surrender our emotions to the One Who has called us to greater love. Loving our enemies wasn’t a suggestion. It was an expectation that if we call ourselves His children this would be how we show it to be true. This would be the only way we turn the hearts of our enemies – overcoming evil with good (Romans 12:21).

“But I say to you, love [that is, unselfishly seek the best or higher good for] your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may [show yourselves to] be the children of your Father who is in heaven; You, therefore, will be perfect [growing into spiritual maturity both in mind and character, actively integrating godly values into your daily life], as your heavenly Father is perfect.  Matthew 5:43, 48

The emotions are raw and intense and conflicting and disturbing. Anger and frustration and sorrow and grief. And fear. FEAR. All whirling so violently in our souls that it seems they cannot, should not be contained. To feel so passionately about injustice surely must be the indication that we speak, no, SHOUT our views and if we shout loudly enough surely we will feel better. Surely someone will listen. Surely the madness will stop. Surely once released our souls will be quieted.

But this is the moment we must stop and turn the fierceness of those emotions into passionate prayer. We must retreat into the secret place wanting only what HE wants, saying only what HE says, doing ONLY what He says to do for everything else will be wood, hay, and stubble. It will not endure. It will not affect real change. It will not win the lost. And that remains our mission – to be led by His Spirit to be His heart, His hands, and His feet that take His love to EVERYONE.

He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty – Whose power no foe can withstand.  Psalm 91:1

Does it mean we don’t have good conversations in order to find understanding and work toward unity? Absolutely not! But good conversations rarely begin with verbal assaults or fingers pointed in blame. 

Should we protest? Should we post on social media? Should we bare our heartbreak through videos? Should we sit silent? These are questions that can only be answered in each and every Christian’s secret place with God. Will He lead us all to do the same thing? No. We each have a role to play in representing Him to the world and once committed to the pursuit of our individual purposes we can no longer play the comparison game amongst ourselves. Hearing the voice of God in the secret place is where we find the peace Jesus died to give us and nothing can take it away. Hearing the voice of God in the secret place is the first of the victories to be won.

We must stand for those oppressed. ALL who are oppressed. We do not choose sides. We do not take it upon ourselves to deem one worthy of His love and mercy and another condemned without hope. That is not our call. Our call is to obey. Whatever He says. No matter what anyone else thinks or says.

But the LORD reigns forever, executing judgment from his throne. He will judge the world with justice and rule the nations with fairness. The LORD is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. Those who know your name trust in you, for you, O LORD, do not abandon those who search for you.  Psalm 9:7-10 

As I pray for the angry and the violent, the grieving and the lost, and for His children to be His shelter for these the oppressed, I pray for you “Peace”. Not as the world gives but as Jesus gives. For we simply cannot give away what we do not have.

There are victories to be won” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on

Photo by Just Wild About Teaching


Satisfied, wanting more


I live in a rather large subdivision on the outskirts of the metroplex area.  It’s near a lake and an airport and an often congested roadway from which the noises occasionally invade my quiet little street.  As I sit on my balcony I can see the planes as they are in their descent toward the landing strip and hear the distant sounds of traffic.  And while I have a mostly obstructed view of the golf course that runs throughout the neighborhood, I simply position my chair so as to see the bridge over the small waterway and tune my ears to the sounds of the birds.  I do enjoy getting out in nature and for me it’s always been a method of moving closer to God.  So this will suffice.  It is what I can do today.  I need Him to speak.

Something’s been bugging me.  I’ve put it off as one of the ill-effects of erratic sleep patterns which plague me so often these days.  I have been vaguely aware of a little negativity hanging around but I’ve been busy enough to keep it at bay.  I have exciting things happening this week yet try as I might, my enthusiasm over the good has not dissolved this something that is hovering.  Time to get real.  Time to be still enough to examine what’s wrong.

We humans are such slow learners some times.  It’s not just me, is it?  As soon as I pulled away from all the other things to do and got still and quiet, He made it so clear.  I am dissatisfied.  Not in a big needing-to-make-major-changes kind of way.  I’m happily married, thoroughly pleased with my home, enjoying the work I am involved in…so what is it?  I will admit my first thoughts were those of what others should be doing.  If only the people and organizations in my life would do what I think they should do, surely then I would be satisfied.

I often proclaim through word and song and thought and prayer that Jesus is enough for me.  That God is everything I need.  Yet here I sit once again finding that I have tried to place the responsibility of my own satisfaction in the hands of another, be it a person or an organization.  Herein lies the root of my discomfort, the source of the little dark cloud that has been following me.

I am reminded again of Paul’s words “…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances…”.  It’s not an automatic thing this learning to be content, to be satisfied with where I am and what I have and what everyone else is doing, even if I believe they are off the mark and it affects me.  It is a discipline to which I must forcefully yield because I can’t have it both ways.  I cannot stand face-to-face with God and profess that He is ALL to me and live with dissatisfaction at my side.

I want more, no doubt about it.  I want to be taught deeper things, I want more opportunities to share what I’ve learned, I want my family to passionately follow Him, I want mercy for those who are wounded and hurting, I want freedom for those who are oppressed, I want justice for those who have been wronged, I want MORE!  How can I be content when so very much is needed, satisfied while needs go unmet, still when there is so much to do??

These questions only bring me back to where I started.  He is everything I need.  Until I believe that I can be satisfied with Him alone, I will never know how to truly be content.  This makes me a little uncomfortable in its accountability.  This removes any idea that I can place pressure, whether outwardly in word or deed or simply in my thought life, on any other person to fill any void I find in my life to the point that I will be satisfied.  My flesh squirms beneath this truth.

As clearly as I believe my discernment may be in the matters of others, my taking it to Him alone just as clearly exposes my great limitations in understanding the matters of others.  He calls me to pray and to do and say only what He tells me to do or say.  He calls me to entrust my life to Him completely.  He knows where I am.  He knows the desires of my heart toward those I love and the many who impact my life.  He knows how His gift in me causes me to feel as if I am going to burst if I do not find an outlet for it!  He knows my every need at the deepest of levels even before I am aware I am in need.

And just about the time I once again find the peace that comes with surrender, the heavy clouds that had covered the sky all morning break, revealing the beautiful blue that was just on the other side and I remember –

…and your light shall break forth like the morning…  (Isaiah 58:8)

He is enough.  I pray you breathe Him in and find this satisfaction for your soul today, too.


Satisfied, wanting more” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on