Tag: Dawn Reed

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  • Telling the Story: Good Times in Vacation Bible School

    It’s Bible School week. One sip of strawberry Kool-Aid takes me back to VBS snacks on the creek bank behind Belfry Baptist Church in the early ‘70s. We lined up outside – girls wearing dresses – then marched in to “Onward Christian Soldiers.” We said pledges to the American flag, the Christian flag and the…

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    Telling the Story: Good Times in Vacation Bible School

  • Telling the Story: Praying for God’s will

    Praying for God’s will is the best thing. The wisest thing. The hardest thing. One of the most difficult lessons of my life. It happened July 20, 1994-30 years ago this week. It was a Wednesday. Sandra had been told early on she would never be able to have children. So, when she became terribly…

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    Telling the Story: Praying for God’s will

  • Telling the Story: Better together

    In August 1971, sitting side by side on a brown couch in Jerry Bottom of Huddy my sister Teri and I gave our hearts to Jesus. We were baptized together, and we went to Sunday School together and Training Union on Sunday nights. (Extra points if you know what that is.) We were in youth…

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    Telling the Story: Better together

  • Telling the Story: Declaration of dependence

    The Fourth of July is one of my husband’s very favorite holidays. He loves the colors red, white, and blue and loves to fly the flag. Growing up, learning about the history of our nation was no fun at all. Today rereading/relearning the happenings of our country’s beginning and how our independence came about stirs…

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    Telling the Story: Declaration of dependence

  • God is not surprised

    “God is not surprised.” It’s what Sara Robinson said at Radiant (Pastor’s Wives Retreat) when speaker Christine Hoover’s plane had been delayed time and time again. We prayed and rearranged the schedule. A substitute was mic’d, ready to step to the stage. But, a few moments before her exact time to speak, Christine pulled into…

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    God is not surprised

  • Telling the Story: Appreciation for creation

    Listening to the morning sounds in the mountains, I hear birds tweeting and greeting. They call across the hills, “Good morning! It’s time to get up.” God didn’t have to make birds sing. But He did. The honeysuckle grows wild up the hollow. It’s a delicious treat for drivers who have their windows down. Autumn…

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    Telling the Story: Appreciation for creation

  • Telling the Story: A bad batch of jealousy

    Just after my family moved to Prestonsburg over 20 years ago, Leah Dane-one of our older deacon’s wives, made us a loaf of banana bread. The small bundle was wrapped in foil. Opening it up, we found it already sliced for our convenience. At that time, we lived in a hollow several miles from the…

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    Telling the Story: A bad batch of jealousy

  • Telling the Story: Meeting Mrs. Dorsie

    Some of Jesus’ last words were “Go, go, and be.” I met an embodiment of those words at Horsecave Baptist Church a few weeks ago. Mrs. Dorsie Phillips made her way down the center aisle in turquoise and white. Her white hair was perfectly done. What got my attention was her smile and her necklace.…

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    Telling the Story: Meeting Mrs. Dorsie

  • Telling the Story: Shelter in the storm

    Last week, we were visiting my sister and her family in Bowling Green. On Sunday morning, we joined them at Hillvue Church. The pre-service music was playing. People greeted and mingled. The five-minute timer was ticking down. My heart began to stir in anticipation. Four minutes before start time, every phone began to alarm. It…

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    Telling the Story: Shelter in the storm

  • Telling the Story: Things to remember

    When I was younger, Memorial Day was the holiday that truly marked the beginning of summer. I was oblivious to those who decorated graves, never wondering how the cemeteries were suddenly covered with brightly-covered flowers. Decades passed. Now I understand the importance of the holiday. Memorial Day is a time to remember and honor soldiers…

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    Telling the Story: Things to remember