I met Jesus at the end of an aisle in a little church in San Antonio when I was 18. I felt Him smile and say, “Hey there, I’ve been waiting for you.” He’s been with me every step—even to a myriad of places He wishes I’d never gone.

The middle of three girls, I grew up running and exploring the foothills along the Pacific Ocean; I learned to sail in the bay and use chopsticks in San Francisco’s Chinatown. My parents valued culture, so we popped in for Sunday messages at St John Coltrane, Glide Church, and Jewish Temples. California was full of life, and my parents wanted us to be exposed to all of it.

Both my parents have died. My dad in a car accident my last year of college, and my mom years later when she chose not to fight stage 4 cancer. In the year leading up to her death, God took my hand and revealed the mystery of forgiveness—to understand what it means to bear His image and why it’s so important to God that we look for His image in everyone we meet. This simple revelation transformed me. Without a word, the brokenness was healed, and even though my mom was dying, there was peace in our home. And the last six months of her life, as she prepared to meet Jesus, we loved each other.

I’ve been married to my sweet husband Lance for 29 years, and I have the profound joy of being Mom to Hanna and Jack, as well as Gigi to my gran-pets Lily and Ro.

I love the winter sunshine on my face, the hopeful strength of the morning light, the way a photo protects a moment in time, the color of a new leaf in spring, hearing God’s voice in His Word, and the moment people truly grasp and believe that reading the Word actually causes our faith to grow.

THAT’S THE BEST.