“My days are like a lengthening shadow, and I wither away like grass.” – Psalm 102:11 I’m just back from discussing the future focus of our church with about 2 dozen aged Presbyterians this weekend. Isn’t it amazing how we’re all strangers, even to ourselves? And yet we all have an important job to do…. I agreed to take part because
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The hero’s greatest deed, we remember with quiet awe. The story itself is the best eulogy possible. Its fearsome holiness stuns to silence. The death of Jesus, the greatest story, teaches me by including my questions, both literally—“My God, why have you forsaken me?”—and implicitly—“How could this have been God’s will?” But the largest of questions, it leaves unanswered, to
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“When the words mean even more than the writer knew they meant, then the writer has been listening. And sometimes when we listen, we are led into places we do not expect, into adventures we do not always understand." ―MADELINE L'ENGLE The first task in writing your story is letting go of what you wish your story was. When I
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My Dad's spiritual father (my "spiritual grandfather?") sends out this daily email called "Dear Friends." He finds insight in words and linking them to THE Word, which I find so fun. I thought this gem was worth reproducing in its entirety. He asks, "what can I possibly contribute to the Lord this morning or any morning?" Read the email below,
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I've long turned to writing as an escape from life. That fact alone has been enough to incriminate. The guilt of that came on slowly, but it's inescapable now. As my secret's been revealed more and more, the words I've kept inside, reserved for myself, where I believed I'd be safe from those who would judge me for not going
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