Molly's Zone

  How many of us grew up as people pleasers?  I have shared this childhood story countless times before but I have never grown weary of telling it, simply because I know it is one of those struggles that everyone has experienced at one time or another.  And there are those that still do.  I have felt as though growing up as someone who was labeled as "different" by her peers made me into quite an overachiever. All throughout my teenage years--and even into young adulthood, I felt as though I had to work as hard as I could to prove my worth, not only to those around me, but to the world as well.  As I've grown older, I have come to realize that this particular issue doesn't solely apply to the disability community.  Everyone stands out in one way or another.  Everyone has insecurities.  Everyone feels "different" from time to time.  I have continued to fight this particular battle at certain points throughout the writing journey and in those m...

  I'll admit that I absolutely LOVE a good hearty meal. There's truly nothing better than home-cooked meals that are all about good old fashioned country cooking. And now that we are well into the month of October, the noticeable dip in the outside temperature begins the official slide into "comfort food and blankets" territory.  Am I right?  I keep thinking about how so many of us live and love to enjoy the food that goes into our bodies on a daily basis. I don't know anyone that doesn't love to eat.  But have you ever given a thought to what all you're consuming?  That question carries great significance both from a physical and spiritual standpoint.  My mind keeps wandering over to those souls who are lost and endlessly searching for anything and everything to fill them up without ever coming to the realization that Jesus is the only One who ever could.  Their hearts are weary and wishing on every convenient quick fix that this sorry world has to of...

        I cannot believe that we are already well into the month of October! It has been SO long since I have actively published any brand new devotionals or short stories on the blog (apart from the few that were included within the reissues of my "Running Home" short story series.) I love having the opportunity to write for the Lord and I always miss it whenever I'm not in "writer mode" simply because it is honestly my greatest source of joy and I could never imagine doing anything else with the life that He has blessed me with.  I try to live out each day with a spirit of encouragement and it is my sole aim to enlighten and edify the hearts of those who stumble upon my little blog. I have forever held onto the belief that little is much when God is in it. At the heart of today's message is one story that I have never taken the time to share simply because it slightly delves into grief territory but I just love the analogy that's within and I couldn...

Raise your hand if you're someone who becomes easily distracted. (I know that I am definitely writing from a place of personal experience on this one.) While the Lord laid the theme of distraction upon my heart many months ago, this particular sentence came to me just recently; one ounce of truth that was one of those "hit you square in the face" moments of unfiltered honesty:  If Satan cannot destroy, he will simply distract, and if he can distract, he will surely destroy.  I couldn't help but think about how profound that statement truly is.  Have you ever truly been distracted?  As I'm piecing together this thought...the image that immediately pops into my head is that one car that you're following down the road as it continually swerves all over the place, venturing into the other lane and putting themselves and others in harm's way.  You wonder "what in the world is going on?" and then you suddenly realize that they are either responding to ...

  The Lord placed this thought on my heart a while ago and I never have gotten around to sharing all of what it entails until now. I ultimately made the decision that today would be the perfect time (not that there would ever be a wrong time) Three years ago, I came to the point of desiring to write but found myself running short on the creative spark that I love SO much. I live for it because for me, having the opportunity to build devotionals and to create stories has forever fulfilled something deep within me. My brain can be pretty loud at times and it somehow takes all of that away. The absolute best feeling in the world. There's truly nothing like it. SO much joy. I had started hormonal treatment and I was doing better than ever health wise, but I remember hitting that point of not being able to write for awhile and it truly bothered me. I felt as though the Lord would never be interested in using me again and the thought of stopping after so many years was just absolutely d...

I spent some of my Saturday cleaning away all the dust and dirt that somehow found its way behind my bed, along with completing the surface level of household chores that stays on the "to do list" that forever lives rent free in my head.  But wouldn't it be wonderful if we only had to clean up the rooms of our houses once without ever having to worry about it again?  There is never a time at my house when there isn't something that needs done (whether it be the floor that needs swept and mopped, the hallway and family room that needs vacuumed, bathrooms that require regular cleaning, or everyone's least favorite....dusting the furniture)  Housekeeping requires a spirit of daily effort and fervent diligence The same could be said about keeping up our hearts by renewing our minds daily through simply taking the time to pray and to have fellowship with the Lord.  Just as no one loves to think about cleaning house absolutely every single day, our flesh will never natu...

  (December 1974: Lincoln County, West Virginia)   “What a wonderful story,” Pastor Perry said with a smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss.  Would you want to say a few words before the service starts? he asked.   “Sure, I have a few notes here in my coat pocket that I wrote down last night,” I replied. “Shouldn’t we be going?”   Pastor Perry glanced at his watch. “I reckon so, are you ready?”   “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied nervously.   “It’ll be alright son, just speak from your heart,” he said, nudging my side with his hand.   The time for momma's homegoing service was now upon us. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready for this moment but my soul knew that I would one day see her again. We would both be in the presence of God’s everlasting love; the space that surrounded us would be filled with the wonderful peace, eternal hope, and boundless joy that His presence provides.   “It’s a pleasure to have you all here today,” Pastor Perr...

  (December 1974: Charleston, West Virginia)   "I am starting to see why your mother was such a soldier.” Pastor Perry shivered on the bench as he started to feel the cold winter breeze flow past them.   I smiled. I loved recalling my mother’s tales. It had taken her years to become that soldier.   “No matter what she would just keep on keepin’ on,” I replied. I adjusted my coat. It had fallen slightly off of my shoulders. “That was the best thing about her.”   Momma kept a heart of thankfulness and praise for the wonderful ways that God had reminded her of His unwavering presence. She clung to Christ because He was the faithful father, precious Savior, and wonderful friend that she could always count on through each and every storm.   Working became difficult for her as time passed by and her health began to decline. She eventually moved in with Cookie and me though she didn’t like asking for help. We bought her a new puppy in hopes of lifting her spirits:...

  (Lincoln County, West Virginia: April 1971)   No one could prepare us for the turn that our lives would take after I accepted that job offer. Frank's sudden passing created such a huge void for us; nothing could ever replace him. A new chapter of adventure began that day, though we couldn't see it at the time. We always held onto the fact that God always provided for our every need.  We were forever safe in the palm of His hand.    The newness of it all was quite overwhelming to me at first. Our lives became surrounded by undeserved plentiful blessings. Thankfulness and praise filled our hearts as the road of adventure grew sweeter. We knew that we would have the strength to endure whatever came our way because of His faithful shield.   Working on the farm fell away from us somewhat as my clientele grew.   Our days had become full of those new great adventures that Frank loved. Our story as a family began to blossom. Rosalie Combs had provided me wit...

The arrival of September saw the passing of a remarkable milestone----the 11th anniversary of the official launch of my little blog and the beginning of an awesome adventure.  To think I initially said no to writing for Jesus absolutely blows my mind but I will forever love sharing the beautiful story of how it came to be. The tugs on my heart actually began when I was a nineteen year old college student---I always knew that I was to write something for Him, I just never quite understood what it was.  I was solely focused on graduating college and simply building upon a career in my chosen field of study.  I kept ignoring that still small voice and for the four years that followed, I actively ran from it and absolutely nothing in the world could ever satisfy the deep ache within my soul.  I knew Jesus but my heart was somehow locked into a desperate search for peace and purpose that included countless tearful nights of pleading with Him to simply use me.  I was ...

  ( July 1963: Lincoln County, West Virginia)   The weeks following the death of Frank tested the foundation of our family's faith. Life as we knew it would never be the same. The farm ceased to hold its charm as another new beginning came towards us. I lost the greatest adventure partner and the love of my life. I would have to go on while carrying the precious memories in my heart. As a family, we would stick together. Jesus would help us through. He has always been the good shepherd that we trust in through every part of life.   "It's hard knowin' Frank won't be walkin' in the door," I said, sitting in the living room. I reached up towards my face to wipe away a fresh flood of tears. Della reached for my hands and took them both in her own.   "He was a good husband. A great father. Y'all had such a great love story". Della, responded, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Nothing will be the same, but I know he would want you to keep on k...

      (Lincoln County, West Virginia: July 1963)   The sense of purpose that I longed for as a little girl had found its way to my heart. The countless years working at Berman’s have filled my heart full of passionate joy. The girls and I formed a precious family-like bond. The customers meant a lot to me. Day to day life was abundant in blessings. Our family's faith remained solid through it all, as the good shepherd never left our side. His presence would always be enough.   The little bell sounded as the door to the shop inched open. The young woman looked familiar, as she frequented Berman’s quite a bit. I always loved having the chance to meet people and found my voice working in Charleston. Every day the town seemed to be bustling with even more friendly faces.   "Hi!" the young woman said, looking around the shop.   "How can I help you?" I replied,  walking up to the lady, smiling from ear to ear.   "I need a dress for a dinner party t...