Coffee & Common Grounds

Some mornings, when I stand at the kitchen window of our home, the world feels unusually still — like God is holding His breath just long enough for me to notice something sacred. The deer wander across the back pasture, unhurried and unbothered, moving with that quiet confidence that only creatures who know their Maker seem to have.

And just about  every time I see them, I think of my dad.

Dad was an avid deer hunter — the kind who didn’t just love the sport, but loved the land, the early mornings, the stillness, the stewardship. But what marked him even more deeply than his love for the outdoors was the moment, at 30 years old, when he surrendered his life to Christ. That decision changed the entire trajectory of our family.

It changed me.

Growing up, I didn’t realize how much of his spiritual influence was shaping me. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t showy. It was Deuteronomy 6 lived out in real time — faith taught not only in words, but in the way he walked, worked, prayed, and loved.

“Talk about these things when you sit at home and when you walk along the road…”
“Impress them on your children…”

Dad didn’t preach sermons. He lived one.

And now, in our home, with these windows and this view, I feel the weight and the gift of that legacy. Watching the deer, I’m reminded of the old worship song that shaped so many of our early years in the faith — “As the deer pants for the water…” Not quoting the whole song, but remembering the heart of it: a soul that longs for God with the same instinctive need that a deer has for water.

That longing — that deep, steady, unshakeable desire for the presence of God — is what my dad modeled for me. And it’s what I pray we carry into this next season.

Because as we prepare for this upcoming women’s conference, I can’t help but feel that same invitation rising again:
A call to return to the Source.
A call to remember the legacy of faith that shaped us.
A call to pass it on — just as faithfully, just as quietly, just as powerfully.

Maybe that’s why God brought us to this home.
Maybe that’s why He placed these windows here.
Maybe that’s why the deer keep showing up.

A reminder that the same God who met my dad at 30…
The same God who shaped my heart through his…
The same God who leads the deer to water…
Is leading us now — preparing us, drawing us, calling us deeper as we step toward this conference.

And just like those deer, we come thirsty.
Thirsty for renewal.
Thirsty for His presence.
Thirsty for the kind of spiritual legacy that will outlive us.

May we walk into this conference with hearts that long for Him — just as the deer longs for the water.