Claresa Smith
Claresa Smith is an experienced journalist and poet at heart who loves to write about how God works in the everyday to inspire us and change us for the better. She is the wife of an artist and tech enthusiast, and spends her days chasing their spirited little girl. When she’s not writing, playing toddler games, or learning about the latest gadget, she’s usually reading, reorganizing something, or looking for her next DIY project. You can find her online at claresa.net.
5 posts
Fear, Anxiety, And The Uncomfortable Places

We passed rows of rundown stores and shops as we drove down the well-worn highway.  We made our way into a neighborhood, ripe with older, unmatched homes. They were a far cry from the cookie-cutter homes with identical manicured lawns that I’d often seen in the more bustling parts of town. Still, I loved how each house had its own charm. We finally turned onto a steep, short driveway and...

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Loving Your Spouse Jesus’ Way

It was two weeks after the unofficial start of summer, and I couldn’t believe my family was dealing with sickness again. The sickness had already hit my 3-year-old the previous week—but like most things—it couldn’t keep her down for long. We spent the weekend inside and I relaxed as much as my girl and her 5-month-old brother would allow. So I managed to stave it off, for the most part. My...

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Finding Your Place At God’s Table When You’re Grieving

It was nearly five months ago that I saw a group of EMTs wheel my grandmother into the back of an ambulance. She hadn't been able to eat much and her body had become weak and frail. She often complained of stomach pains and said nothing tasted like it used to. We seemed so far from the days when I used to watch her standing in front of her seventies...

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The Ministering Power Of Presence

It was the height of the lunchtime rush. I side-stepped slowly as I guided my daughter over the patches of ice lining the drive-thru lane. After slipping a couple times, a kind woman held on to my daughter as I regained my footing and made it to the door. With cool air beating our cheeks, we rushed inside. I shimmied past the row of cashiers and the customers waiting in...

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The Problem With Chasing Perfection

Almost every night, I sit my daughter in her high chair with its food stained cover. She giggles and picks over her food as my husband and I sit on either side of her in soft but worn suede chairs. They're chairs marked by years of cat climbs, cat scratches, and dinners in a home other than my own. The table we gather around has a similar story; it, too,...

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