karin madden

  • Home
  • Sunrise With A Six Pack (Blog)
  • Meet Karin
    • Truth In The Details {4×4 of 4 things about me}
    • Hear My Story
    • Food Allergies
      • Recipes for the picky ones
  • 31 Days Series
    • 31 Days of God’s Promises
    • 31 Days of Good Deeds
    • 31 Days Of Walking The Path
  • Essential Oils
    • What’s The Deal With Essential Oils?
  • DIY
    • DIY Deodorant
    • DIY {easy} Facial Toner
    • DIY Liquid Laundry Detergent
  • Contact
  • Subscribe and Free e-book

November 13, 2013 by Karin 6 Comments

When We See There Are No Small Deeds

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 31 ~

Piled onto one bed.

That’s how we do it.  That’s how we say our prayers at night.

I’m not sure which challenge is greater – fitting eight people onto one bed, or getting six little people to hold still long enough to finish our words to the One who holds this overcrowded bed together.

…and, please keep Daddy safe on his trip.  

Little voices piled on request after request.

Mama finished with one final prayer,

Please, God, let something really cool happen on his trip.  Please let him have an experience he can share with us when he gets home.

Please put him in front of someone.

I’m not sure why I asked for that.  I’m learning to love the unexpected – the thrill of this journey.

Babies tucked in, bottoms patted, lullabies hummed, lights out.  

It was a day trip for my warrior; a long flight in the morning with a return late into the night.  These trips are a treat – the nights I know he’s coming home.  Remembering endless evenings –  and months upon months of nights alone –  with these slumbering little ones.

He walked in the door just before midnight.

Squeezing me tightly, he said,

You’re not going to believe this story.

My eyes widened in anticipation – I love a good story.  

I was sitting next to a woman on the plane.  She was typing away at something.  

Those airline seats.  There’s nothing like being stuffed into a flying tube with one-hundred-fifty strangers, as we try our best to maintain personal space.  Not much personal space in a two-by-two seat.  We face forward hoping all goes well as we are propelled through the air in a chair.  No wonder my warrior likes a single seat jet.

She was typing something and I could see that she was crying.  I handed her a tissue and said, “I hope those are happy tears.”

She smiled, nodded, and took the tissue from my hand.  “Oh, yes, my husband and I are flying out to adopt a newborn baby.”

My warrior went on,

Oh that’s great!  How many kids do you guys have?

She smiled and said,

This will be our fourth.  They are all adopted.

I love a good story about happy families, happy children, and happy endings.  Then, he went on,

Karin, then she told me that this new baby… was born without a brain.

I froze and my eyes filled.  My thoughts ricocheted between mommy love and speech pathologist truth.  My mind went to countless souls, young and old, that I have treated with one brain disorder after another.  No brain?  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing,

He only has a brain stem.

The brain stem.  The part of our brain that provides basic functioning: heart rate, breathing, sleeping, and eating.  The basic functions that, on the surface, seem like the only things a newborn wants to do.  But, there is so much more going on in a new healthy brain after it signals that first breath of life.  So much hidden from our eyes in these new ones we bring into the world.

But, not this little one.  Only a brain stem.  No more.

My warrior, this daddy of six, continued,

She told me about the baby – she showed me his picture.  He’s beautiful.  He looks perfect. His mother has already signed him over.  She can’t do it.  She can’t take care of him.  So, Karin, this lady and her husband are flying out to pick him up.  They are taking him home.

I couldn’t quite believe what he was telling me, and then there was more,

So, we compared family photos.  I showed her the kids and she showed me hers.  Her older two are teenagers now.  They also have a two-year-old.  This toddler only has half of his brain.  The left side is missing.  She told me that he makes noises and climbs with his one functioning side.  He loves to climb on his daddy.  Karin, he’ll never talk.  

The doctors told them that he would never walk; but he’s proved them wrong.

My mind spun.  The left side of the brain, where language finds its home, is the reason our babies can whisper,

I love you.

He told me that she was worried.  Not about the long-term.  She was concerned about the things every mother of a new one wonders.  How will I take care of a newborn and a toddler?  She had done it before. Sometimes knowing what’s coming gives us pause.  She spent her flight in the pause – thinking, talking, wondering.  Until she and her husband would land and wrap arms around newborn life.  This life, short of a miracle, would be brief.  

Brief… but loved.

The young mother went on to tell my husband that they had only just been notified of this baby’s birth.  It was a last-minute thing.  He needed a home, and they got the call.

And, they said,

Yes.

She added,

I was just writing to my sister to tell her about the baby.  I don’t know yet what we will name him.  I wrote to her as you handed me a tissue… I told her that a good Samaritan next to me had just given me a tissue.

I smiled, as he told me,

Karin, I just gave her a tissue – she was crying.  I’m no good Samaritan.  They are adopting a baby with no… brain.  I just gave her a tissue.

I hugged him hard,

To her, honey, you were a good Samaritan.  It takes all good deeds, big and small, to change this place.

You know, I asked God to put you in front of someone.  Someone with a story.  He not only gave you a story…

He also dried her tears.

And, this… this is how it rolls.  How this place spins.  One good deed after another.  One story more magnificent, more heart-wrenching, more eye-opening, more life-altering than the next.  We all have stories.  Stories pass us by day after day… as we move past each other.

The trick is… to open our eyes.  Open our hearts... our ears.  To find the space between.

There are no small deeds

To lay down our watches, our expectations, our previous notions.

There are no small deeds – in this world of great needs.

His watchful eye will place us face to face with soul after soul… 

and, sometimes, all that is required is an open heart…

and a tissue.

 

Hebrews 10:23-25

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

Karin signature

 

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Community, Faith, Good Deeds, Love, Motherhood, Together Tagged With: just say yes, no small deeds, open hearts

November 11, 2013 by Karin 4 Comments

When There Is More To The Story {for the Veterans}

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 30 ~

I was expecting something.  Someone, really.

After weeks and weeks of eyes opening to people right in front of me – these people waiting with open hands – I’ve begun to expect.  I don’t think they expect – I suppose a better word would be hope.  They hope someone will notice.

But, I was on a mission.  The gray hairs that force their way onto this mama’s head had arrived… again.  One by one they show up and stand at attention.  Like little gray soldiers demanding the right to be seen after years of deployments, endless work hours… and six kids.  Well… and a little heredity thrown in, too.  

No matter.  It was time to subdue those determined (and multiplying) suckers.

Mission… hair dresser.

I was off and had no time for distractions during this sacred mama “me time.”

I don’t know how I ended up on that road.  It wasn’t the road I intended to take.  You know that coma driving we do when there are no distractions.  I drove on in this grid-town.  You can get anywhere if you know how to drive a square.

I looked up and saw him.  He was an older man.  He shuffled back and forth next to the cars.  The red lights are the best places to get our attention.  We have to actually try to look away. 

I saw him wander back and forth as I glanced at the clock.  No time.  And, I drove on.

He registered in my mind as I drove past,

If You want me to stop for him, please remind me later.  I don’t want to be late.

Hairs tamed, grays smothered, scalp massaged, and ends trimmed; I handed her the check.  She’s a spunky local girl with a heart of gold and a lifetime of stories, though her life has been much shorter than mine.  I hugged her neck and went on my way – delighted that suffocating gray hairs is much cheaper in this town than the last.

It was then that He reminded me,

Go back to the guy at the corner.

I’m learning to listen, so I turned the truck in the direction of the old man with the cardboard sign.

I’ll tell you, once you give once, it becomes something you want to do again and again.  As if He designed us to give… to love.

I was prepared to give the man a bill, when He interrupted my thoughts,

You know what you just paid for your hair?  Give him that much.

I can’t say that I argued, but I did ask Him for clarification,

That much?  Is that what I should give? 

Truth, I had never handed someone a wad of bills like that… it’s different went you write a check or swipe a card.

Do you only trust Me $20 worth?

And that’s really where the truth lies.  Do I only trust Him 20 dollars worth – or as much as my comfort will allow?

I smiled as my hand began to shake.  I knew.  I didn’t want to be that person.  The 20-dollar-truster… the only-this-much-but-no-more giver.

I pulled my car around to the light and rolled down my window.  I glimpsed his sign – Vietnam vet.  Please help.

What’s your name?

A smile appeared on his weathered, tired face.  He could have been my father, my father-in-law, my uncle.

Jim.

Of course it was Jim.  Just another version of James.

Jim, I’m going to pray for you.  Thanks for your service.  I hate that you are standing out here asking for money.

He looked at the bills in his hand as his eyes widened,

Thank you!  Oh, God, thank you.

He walked away as I waited for light.  I saw him turn back in a hurry.  He had just counted his bills,

Oh my God.  Thank you!  What is your name?  You have no idea what you’ve just done for me.  I’m not getting my social security.  You have no idea.

I smiled as I felt my heart surge,

I wish I could give you more, Jim.

His teary eyes bore into mine as he replied,

Oh no.  This is just… unreal.  You are going to heaven, Karin.  I won’t ever forget this.

There is something about giving, about doing good, that begins to transform a heart.  It shamed me for ever having been blind to people around me, and it reminded me of how much I have to be grateful for.  

My husband is a veteran.  My brother is a veteran.  My brother-in-law is a veteran.  My father is a veteran. This man, someone’s family, is a veteran.

So, just when you think you know the whole of a story… God gives you more to take in.

Weeks went by.  Then, yesterday, of all people, I saw Jim.

He stood there on the corner, same sign in his hand, and waited.  Vietnam Vet.  Please Help.

Did you know that the US Department of Housing and Urban Development estimates that 62,619 veterans are homeless on any given night?  On top of that, about 1.4 million other veterans are considered at risk of homelessness due to poverty, lack of support networks, and dismal living conditions in overcrowded or substandard housing.

I rolled down my window and smiled at the familiar face,

Hi, Jim.

His eyes brightened as he beamed,

Are you Karin?  I’ve been thinking about what you did.  Do you know that you paid my rent for the whole week?

I grinned and answered,

I hoped it was for something like that.  I’ve been praying for you, Jim.  Why are you out here?

He leaned in and told me the story of his wife passing away, of things going wrong, of life turning upside down.

This is so embarrassing, you know.

I nodded,

Jim, you could be my dad, or my father-in-law, or my uncle.  Do your kids know you are here?

His eyes went to the ground as he shrugged,

Actually, my daughter told me to come out here. 

What do you say to that?  I looked into the old man’s eyes and gave him a handful of rent.

Here, Jim, this will cover your rent this week.  I’ll keep praying for you.

His eyes filled as he touched my hand,

Thank you, Karin, the prayers are working.  Things are turning around.  God bless you.  

I’m going home now.

I smiled as the light turned green.  Time to go.  He waved as I turned the corner.  My friend, Jim.  The veteran dodging homelessness on a street corner.  The man who dodged bullets for his country, now begging handouts on the street – at the urging of his daughter.

I’m not sure which wrecked me more.  A veteran serving, now begging; or a father sacrificing, now breaking.

I drove home to my warrior, my very own veteran.  The house bustled and brimmed with a daddy and his two sons… and four daughters.

Daddy's home!  

I watched those little ones wrap arm after arm around their daddy’s neck, and I whispered to Him,

God, bless this veteran… and his children.  And, may his daughters never forget their daddy’s sacrifice.

Happy Veteran’s Day – and endless thanks to you and your families for your sacrificial service.

 

1 John 4:9-11

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.  This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

Karin signature

 

Filed Under: Community, Compassion, Good Deeds, Love, Military, Together Tagged With: daddy's girls, for the veterans, gratitude, sacrifice

November 8, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

You Just Never Know…

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 27 ~

It looks like summertime.  You’d never know it is fall in the middle of the sunny desert.

My eyes scan the horizon for any glimpse of fall leaves in this sandy town.  Nothing.  This place of perpetual summer leaves and green cacti.

I’m left to close my eyes.  Behind the lids I see the glorious gold.  The rusty orange, raging red, and luminous yellow blaze in my mind’s eye.

The leaves will fall and again I’ll close my eyes to see the thick pillow of snow cascade across the landscape.  This, I think, we might miss the most.  The winter snow.  There is just something about snow that makes everyone feel more like a brother, or a sister.  Like we are trapped in a down comforter together.  The snow feathers all around while we gaze in amazement and offer hands of help.  There is something about the snow that quiets the earth and fills in the lines of division with white goodness.

We can look into the distance here and see the white caps of jagged mountains.  These hills that surround us now will soon be covered in a white blanket.  Almost close enough to reach, but not near enough to our front door step.

I remember the scene.  My front door step just three years ago.  I didn’t glimpse the stone of those steps for months.  Two blizzards raged outside, back to back… just after he left.   I watched the wind whip the branches around as the ice thickened and grabbed hold of the fast falling flakes.

The mounds grew and grew.  By morning all we could see was white.  Like a ski chalet somewhere on the other side of the world.  While my warrior, green bags in tow, flew far away… somewhere to the other side of the world.  Deserts far away from the white down on our front stoop.

He loves this stuff.  I wish he could see this…

The shrieks and jubilant hollers from our, then, pack of five filled the cozy rooms.  Some of the glee came right from mama’s mouth.  There’s just something about snow.  It brings me back to childhood memories while holding me in the present moment – all at the same time.  Nothing else quite does that.

Blanket of snow

Weeks and weeks went by.  Snow does begin to wear on mama bear somewhere between the soaked suits and wet boots.  Many times I thought,

This would be so much better with two.  He would just love this.

Friends with warrior hearts and pastors with servant’s souls came day after day to make sure mama and babies had supplies and a shoveled driveway.  We just can’t make it through the cold days without our brothers and sisters.  The white goodness in the hearts of friends and neighbors quieted and warmed our souls in the middle of missing daddy.

After months of snowy ground cover, the walkways seemed to transform to a slick glistening path of reflection… and danger of broken bones.

Plowing through

I don’t remember quite what I was doing, but I know just where I was standing when I saw her carefully climb those slick steps.  My mind quickly made the judgement call,

Who on earth tries to sell stuff door-to-door in weather like this?  Just nuts…

Her hand went to the door and she knocked briefly.  She was dressed for the weather with a hat that capped what I was sure was plum craziness.

I opened the door anticipating,

No thank you, we aren’t interested.

It just goes to show you… not so fast.  Not so fast with that judgement thing.  You never know… you might just being opening the door to a gift.

She smiled at me,

Hi.  I’m your neighbor down the street.

She pointed to the house.  Oh, I knew the house.  We all knew she was a hoarder.  Not in the sense that all of us have trouble letting go, but in the true definition of hoarder.  The house seemed to slowly disappear behind overgrown shrubs; and any glimpse into the cracked garage door bore witness to years and years of newspapers… and so much more.  Stacks and stacks piled behind the darkened windows.  Occasionally we would see a car come and go.

What could bring a person to this place… hoarding?  The stories swirled of sadness… the passing of her husband was said to start it all.  But, who knows where it all really starts?

My eyes widened as a smile crept to my face,

Hi.  How are you?  I’m Karin.

She smiled, shook my hand, and went on,

I heard your husband was deployed.  I know you have a lot of kids down here and that you probably can’t get to the store.  I was at Home Depot and grabbed the last two bags of rock salt.  I want you to have them for your walkway.  It can be dangerous with all this ice and I don’t want you guys to get hurt.

Just when you think you know a story… grace comes crashing in.

She went on to tell me about her daughter and grandchildren.  She even offered to watch my children should I reach the brink of madness home alone with five of them.

We laughed and talked; and finally she went on her way down the icy path.

I watched out the window until I couldn’t see her anymore.

I felt His love and protection, and at the same time I heard Him whisper,

You just never know…

And, we don’t.

We don’t know the whole of any story.

We know pieces and parts.  We form our opinions on shards of information… on slivers of truth.  

We form our opinions on sheets of ice only to find grace and humility melting them all away.

Sometimes we don’t know the white pillows of goodness that are hidden in a heart.

The woman who hoarded things we couldn’t understand, freely gave what a stranger needed.  You just never know.

You just never know what you’ll find on your front step… if you are willing to open the door…

and your heart.

 

Revelation 3:20

Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. 

Karin signature

 

 

Filed Under: Brothers and Sisters, Community, Faith, Friendship, Good Deeds, Grace, Military, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: military, sharing burden, together, you never know

November 7, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

The Longest Walk

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 26 ~

Sometimes the longest walk… is across the room.

I remember that day like it was yesterday.  Though the reflection in my mirror proves it was more than a few yesterdays ago.  I remember it.

The doors of that magnificent old church opened. Both arched doors revealed a sea of faces waiting for one nervous bride.

I remember my girlfriend Kim fretting over her hair as her nerves tingled in last minute stage fright.

I remember my dad, handsome, standing straight and proud holding my arm.  His German accent whispered in my ear as the gates to wedded bliss opened wide.

I remember taking those first few steps as the breath caught in my throat and the tears hovered in my lashes.

I heard the whisper of my warrior’s pilot comrade to my left,

Awesome.

I smiled to myself thinking I had succeeded at pulling off the perfect Princess Bride makeover.

I peered and saw the Scottish priest in his cowboy boots.  Beaming.

Overwhelming.  The crowd stood like a wave surging over a small unsuspecting shell sunning on the sand.

Breathtaking.  The faces of people I loved, some I barely knew, some I didn’t know I would grow to love over the years.  This family of friends and relatives welcomed me into the room.

And, I began to walk.

I remember a few faces in the sea.  They smiled through my blurry eyes and my heart swelled.

I walked.

The long walk

Then, I saw him.

Smiling and standing proud in his mess dress.  Surrounded by his brothers, my brothers, and friends who had become brothers.

My feet carried me, I think.  But, really, it was my heart.  

And, we met at the altar.

This walk burned into my memory.  I can close my eyes and see it still.

Then, the years rush.  They pull and they push and the waves crash over and over again.

The ride is up and down over the swell.

I remember a song my girlfriend Jennifer and I used to play and repeat… and repeat.  Big fans of Big Head Todd and The Monsters.

Bittersweet.

The song intrigued us as the single girls.  The lyrics… they are just a little bit sad.  How would we avoid the bittersweet?

It’s bittersweet

More sweet than bitter,

bitter than sweet.

It’s a bittersweet surrender.

The walk that day.  Nothing but sweet.  Completely and wholly surrendered.

And the years keep rolling and the waves keep crashing.  And the lyrics come back to me…

I know we don’t talk about it.

We don’t tell each other.

All the little things that we need.

We work our way around each other…

As we tremble and we bleed.

The song still whispers a heartache.  I’ve watched it happen.  So many times, I’ve seen my friends tremble and bleed.

And my warrior and I, we have trembled and bled just a few times, too.

We work our way around each other.  We ride these waves.  And we just want to keep our heads above the water.  But, really, we want to stand on the water and walk.  We want to walk this walk together.  We want to meet at the altar.

Meet at the altar

The good deed.

I met a couple of new friends a few weeks ago.  I asked them for good deeds and I waited for stories about heroic acts and gifts given in secret.  Then, Shannon smiled and told me,

I walked across the room and gave my husband a glass of water.

I stopped and looked into her eyes.

She went on,

We had been disagreeing and I was so frustrated with him.  But, I wanted to make peace.

So, I served him.  I walked across the room and gave him a glass of water.

And, it changed everything.

Another brave heart I had just met, Karen, she laughed and said,

I just brought my husband tea.

We weren’t in the best place with each other and were both frustrated.

I made him a cup of tea.

I walked across the room and handed it to him.  And, he melted.

I smiled at the simplicity of the deed.  The simplest deed is sometimes the very hardest one.

I thought about the times my warrior and I have battled on our own hills.

Sometimes the walk across the room… is the longest walk.

This ride, these waves, the best deed… walk across the room completely and holy surrendered.

The sweet surrender.  

The longest walk… our feet won’t carry us.

But, in surrender… our hearts can.

As we meet at the altar again… and again.

 

Ephesians 5:1-2

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Karin signature

 

Filed Under: Family, Forgiveness, Good Deeds, Love, Military, Together Tagged With: bittersweet, love and marriage, mawwiage, Princess Bride, walk across the room

November 6, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

Someone Is Always Watching

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 25 ~

The couple walked through the same door.

They sat in the same seats.

It was like this.  Every Sunday.  Year after year.

The words washed over them like a soothing rainfall.  The peace transcended all understanding.  All the world faded from focus.

It was like this week after week.

Until this one day.

Somewhere between the mesmerizing melodies and the words of wisdom, they looked over and saw them.

His face buried in his hands while she gently rubbed his shaking shoulders.  He wept without shame.  He wept out of frustration and fear.  He wept with his faith in the fray.  He wept and they watched.

This place of peace and comfort suddenly became a vision of raw, heart-wrenching reality.

What happens when things aren’t so good?

Where is He when we show up week after week and there is no answer?

How long do we have to wait?  It’s just too much…

They watched as she soothed this strong man in his weakest moment.  This weakest moment… right in the middle of a room full of people.

And he wept without shame.  Sometimes we get to the breaking point, and it just doesn’t matter who’s watching anymore.

She rubbed his shoulders in circular rhythm, as though she wanted to wipe it all away.  She wondered when the worry would end.  It had been years now.  No job.  No income.  No help in sight.

These times can break us.  These times without income, without provision, without hope.

It just doesn’t matter who is watching anymore.  And, we break.  Right in the middle of a crowded room. And, no one seems to notice.

But, Someone does.  Someone is watching.  His plans have the most unsuspected twists and turns.  And He opens eyes.  He opens unsuspecting eyes and whispers His words,

Help them.

Sometimes the best kind of worship is seeing His children through His eyes.  

But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear.  (Matthew 13:16)

She left with her arm around his broad shoulders.  Depleted accounts, disintegrating energy, dashed hopes. It had just been too long.  Where would their help come from?

And, He whispered,

Help them.

The couple looked into each other’s eyes.  The whispers sometimes come so clearly that we wonder why the whole room doesn’t hear.  They both heard.  They smiled into each other’s eyes.  Yes.  Where does our help come from?  The Maker of heaven and earth… the One who whispers.

Hearts in our hands

Time passed and again the couple entered the room through the same doors.  Sat in the same seats.  The words and music cleansed their week-wearied worn souls, and they breathed the holy breath of a Spirit filled room. That’s when they saw them again.

Arms lifted in praise, tears streaming down beaming cheeks.  

Their help did come.  The Maker of heaven and earth has hands and feet all over this planet.

The couple smiled to themselves when they heard of unsuspected provision showing up in a mailbox.  They smiled to themselves when they heard of answered prayers and a new job.  They smiled to themselves as they looked down at their own hands.  Palms up.

The hands in their own laps suddenly looked very much like part of a larger Body.

They smiled as song took the collective Body to a crescendo of praise…

I lift up my eyes to the hills – 

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

These hands open, all around us…

Someone is always watching.

 

Matthew 6:3-4

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

Karin signature

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Filed Under: Community, Compassion, Faith, Good Deeds, Love, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: faith, open hands, sharing burden, together

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • …
  • 8
  • Next Page »

Meet Karin

Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.

Connect With Me

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Search the Sunrise

What I Write

Sunrise Archives

Pinning at Sunrise

Visit Karin's profile on Pinterest.

Recent Sunrise Posts

  • When You Have A Promise To Keep November 9, 2016
  • When You Are In The Secret Place April 21, 2016
  • When You Need To Hear – Do Not Be Afraid April 6, 2016
  • The One List We Need To Write January 1, 2016
  • The Dance May 29, 2015

Sunrise on Facebook

Sunrise on Facebook

Copyright © 2025 · Executive Pro Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in