Debbie W. Wilson

Refreshing Faith

You Can Enjoy the Bible With These 3 Shifts

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A Good News Bible and tiny notepad graced my nightstand through my teen years and college. After climbing into bed at night, I’d read a passage and jot the questions my reading inevitably raised, questions I thought could only be answered in heaven. I was wrong.

During my senior year in college, a Christian retreat peaked my hunger for God. I joined a Bible study led by one of my girlfriends. The Bible came alive and began to make sense. Instead of coming away with only questions, I began to receive answers and hope.Continue Reading

Finding Light When the Path Is Dark

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One night, my tender-hearted husband let our two standard poodles into our bedroom to sleep. All 87 pounds of Max stretched out on the floor beside me. His younger and much smaller brother settled close beside him. Afraid I’d trip over them if I got up in the night, I decided to move them to their usual sleeping spot.

I trudged upstairs with Strider, my smaller boy, in tow and headed back for my stubborn boy Max. On my return, I met Max climbing the steps. Good, I didn’t have to drag him to his bed.

Finally, I could settle down. I strode the few feet to my bed in the dark and fell—hard. Max had wadded the rug beside my bed in protest before leaving. Continue Reading

God Hates Sin, but He Loves You

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Have you ever wondered how God looks at you after you sin? Maybe you even wonder why God hates sin. The following story illustrates how God can hate sin and love us even after we mess up.

My husband Larry joined Cru (Campus Crusade for Christ) out of university. Ken was Larry’s housemate and trainer. Both men married the same year, and our daughters were born the same week.

Ken was a talented worship leader and gifted Bible teacher. Those who knew Ken saw his winsome spirit. Those who met him for the first time noticed his distorted physical frame.    Continue Reading

Jesus Hears, Cares, and Heals

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The parking lot view from my Indianapolis apartment stood in stark contrast to the storybook charm I’d left in Needham, MA. The shrubs Hoosiers called trees couldn’t compare with New England’s brilliant maples. The woman I replaced on my new ministry team sold me her twin bed and chest of drawers. An old trunk I’d used to carry my few belongings was the only familiar piece of furniture in my tiny bedroom.

My former team of single adults had lived in two houses. We walked to each other’s houses. I felt an immediate affinity with my housemate. We even wore matching blouses my first night in Needham at an old-fashioned ice cream parlor when the team celebrated my arrival.Continue Reading

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