November 2013 – Page 2 – Red Tent Living

Start typing and press
Enter to search

Basket of Blessings and Gratitude

By: redtentwomen November 15, 2013September 18, 2015

TravelBasket, Canada, Ellen Oelsen, God, Gratitude, Martin Frobisher, Thanksgiving, Toronto8 Comments

A couple of years ago, I happened onto a plethora of boxes full of pictures from years past…you know, those pictures lovingly stored with the intention of putting them in albums.

Do You See Me?

By: redtentwomen November 14, 2013September 18, 2015

Day to DayGod, Jesus, Kathy Ford, Lamb's Tale Ministries, Psalm 9:9, South Texas, Texas, The Haven8 Comments

I have been asking this question my entire life to my family, my friends, my husband and my children.

Creating from generation to generation

By: redtentwomen November 13, 2013September 18, 2015

ArtBead, craft, Crochet, Generations, Necklace, Valerie Avery3 Comments

Necklaces and bracelets out of dandelion stems adorned with bright yellow blooms.

Grief

By: redtentwomen November 11, 2013September 18, 2015

Day to DayDeath, Grief, Heaven, Jan Meyers Proett, Miscarriage20 Comments

I am tired of people dying. I am weary of losing those I love.

Muchness and a Red Tent Weekend

By: redtentwomen November 8, 2013September 18, 2015

Intentional Living, TravelAlice's Adventures in Wonderland, Chicago, Duet. 6:5, God, Jesus, Mad Hatter, Red Tent Living, Red Tent Weekends, Tracy Johnson9 Comments

A year ago I stepped off the “L” in Chicago to meet Ellen.

Haircare, Healing, and Hope: My Run-In with Jesus

By: redtentwomen November 6, 2013September 18, 2015

Day to DayChristianity, Dan Allender, Grieving, Hope, Jesus, John 5, Katy Johnson, Pool of Bethesda10 Comments

So I was showering this morning when a startling tidbit of information confronted me.

Nostalgia…23 Years and Counting

By: redtentwomen November 4, 2013September 18, 2015

Day to DayAddiction, Anorexia, Bulimia, Compulsive overeating, Eating disorder, Food, God, History, Hope, Mary Jane Hamilton7 Comments

Today as I am writing from a place of sentimentality for the past that is so intricately interwoven with my greatest shame.