Debora M. Coty

Debora M. Coty

Debora M. Coty

Inspirational Speaker and Author

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Melted Earrings

I hopped in my car, which was filled with floating pink helium balloon hearts hand labeled “Palentine,”  to make quick but secret deliveries to my Bible study heart sisters (we’ve had a fantabulous neighborhood Bible study going for about six years now).

On a rather tight schedule (who isn’t?), I pulled into the driveway of the second house, streaked up to the door, left the balloon, which was anchored by a scented candle and bit of candy (I mean really, what says “You’re special” better than chocolate?), and rushed back to my car.

Just as I opened the door, a UPS truck pulled up right behind me, blocking the driveway and stymieing my exit.

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The Sole of Chastening

Chanclas. The word that strikes fear and trembling into the hearts and limbs of children of all ages. My Anglo and multi-cultural friends may not recognize this weapon of sass destruction by name due to its Spanish heritage, but I can all but guarantee you’ll pay homage to its effectiveness as a disciplinary device used ...

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Keeping Christ Outside of Christmas

I always feel a bit assaulted by the joy-sucking dully-funks while putting away the Christmas decorations and disrobing the poor naked tree, don’t you? Gone are the manger scene, colorful ornaments and illustrious reminders of this happy, happy season.

Cheerful carols heralding our Savior’s birth are replaced by the sound of the cat hocking up fur balls.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies is but a succulent memory as you crankily nibble a fistful of baby carrots.

The once festive house suddenly seems so dull. So blah. So deflated. And I find if I’m not careful, my spirit suffers the same letdown.

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Found

At first, I had no trouble staying right behind Mama’s blue car coat as I’d been warned repeatedly to do, but when we ventured near the toy department, I became irresistibly drawn by something I glimpsed a few aisles over. Whatever it was captivated me for what must have been 2-3 minutes, and then another amazing toy called my name yet further down the aisle, and then another.

By the time I looked up, Mama’s blue coat had been replaced by the jackets and sweaters of dozens of strangers, swarming the aisle like bees around a honey log.

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The Lacy White Christmas Blouse

Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat as I swerved to miss a body lying half on the sidewalk, half in the road. I passed the prone man and slowed, finally pulling over to the side of the road at the bottom of the bridge, battling within myself whether to get out or keep going.

This was before cell phones, mind you, so there was no way to call for help within the safe, warm comfort of my car. I had to make a get-your-hands-dirty – or not – decision on the spot. I’ll admit I didn’t want to stop. I was bone tired and gnawingly hungry. And I was wearing my brand new lacy white Christmas blouse; I sure didn’t want to mess it up.

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