I hadn’t been to the beach in years. Until, at long last, we took our first college tour. We were so close—we just had to make the detour . . . to bury our toes in the sand. The sight . . . the sound . . . the smell . . . the first sensations brought back memories like a flood as we drew near. One look at the churning sea and I quickly recalled a scary lesson learned . . . For almost a dozen years I had lived but a few miles from the ocean. In those early days of beach life I
Realization pierced the thick fog—permitting light to stream and flood. This realization came about by asking myself one simple question, borrowed from the apostle Paul: Why is it thought incredible that God can _________________________________? Because God can do all things, that blank can be filled-in with anything. What’s telling is that thing we subconsciously put there when doubt flares. I’m ashamed to admit that I have put a gamut of sad and sorry things in that blank.
Headlights—they come in varying degrees of brightness and hues these days. Whether they’re coming at you dead-on or glaring from the rear, some of the snazzy LEDS can straight up blind you! I find it rather annoying (a word I picked up from my kid’s repeated use during their teen years). I think I’m still seeing spots from the radiation of the intense bluish-white laser that approached from behind the other night. “I’ll show him,” I muttered to absolutely no one. I reached up
There was a time nothing seemed true, all was shifting shadows. I got caught up in the chaotic world, spinning nonsensically out of control. I wasn’t even sure what to believe about myself. Much about my life was uncertain and faltering circumstances further provoked me to worry. As a single mother, I fretted about keeping the house, keeping the lights on, keeping the car running, the fridge stocked . . . the kids from becoming another statistic. It was all beyond me. But God
This ever-changing life is lived in cycles: of want and plenty, ease and trial, celebration and mourning. With its ups and downs, peaks and valleys, it’s less melodious, more pulsating. Call it the pulse of life. Here’s what God told His people they could expect in the land they would live in: But the land you are crossing the Jordan to take possession of is a land of mountains and valleys that drinks rain from heaven. (Dt 11:11) They had a rough river crossing to face, but a
Life has a way of altering a day. BUT . . . As God covered the deep Creation waters, so too He covers the space you occupy. He is the God who has managed the fate of nations and resolved complex kingdom conflicts—which means He is not taxed with the mounting difficulties within your household. So, when the unexpected crops up and alters your day, rest in the knowledge that He can mend anything life tatters. There is no alteration too complex for His reversal. Those unexpected
“Piracy is not a victimless crime,” he joshed. “Yeah, I recently read that somewhere,” I lobbed back. This light-hearted banter was pitched back and forth as we waited for the movie to cue. It bounced back this week, though, after a frantic exchange was being tossed my way. Wanna know what else isn’t victimless? Fear. Fear is not a victimless “crime”. It spills over, rippling outward and splashing onto the unsuspecting in its vicinity. When the frantic start throwing the frui
Have you ever tasted the attainability of a lofty Bible verse? Some hefty verses keep you wondering how, in this fallen world, God will ever accomplish it. Like this one: “until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Eph 4:13). On Sunday I caught glimpse, as sampling, of the possibility of this verse. The reality of it was modeled by none other than . . . children! Th