They bring in a boombox like a weapon to send us away. Speakers shout out ugly songs, more obnoxious than loud Hawaiian shirts. A twisted face. A gruff voice. Arms crossed. Cigarette smoke clouds our space. Beer swirls with chlorine. Eyes glaze over like frosted glass at the sight of me and mine. There are things that can make the warmest of places feel so cold. Continue reading
On August 17, HelloMornings.org will release my 6-week study covering the 400-year saga of Israel’s downward spiral in the Book of Judges. Our story starts with a moment of crisis as Israel loses its beloved leader, Joshua. Without a strong personal commitment to God, the next generation forgets God’s mighty deeds and His covenant love. They choose instead to do what is right in their own eyes. Continue reading
Social media is a funny thing. It’s sort of like a party where you’re having one conversation and overhearing bits and pieces of other conversations nearby. Sometimes there’s so much chatter it’s hard to get all the details of the conversation right in front of you. So it was as my writer friend Nancy shared about her fight with cancer. I knew she’d dealt with the diagnosis before and was now dealing with it again. I prayed for her and looked for updates on her wall, but it wasn’t until I sat down with Nancy’s book in hand that I got the whole story Continue reading
I don’t expect much when I hit publish on a blog post. I know there’s a lot to read on the Internet and my writing takes a little longer to dig into than most. I’m just about as slow in writing social media posts as I am with posting pieces on the blog, so getting my work in front of a wider readership has never really been a natural thing for me. And so, when I finish a new piece and hit the button to send it into the ether, I usually look for a comment from my mom and maybe a friend or two (Thank you to those who chime in!). And that’s that.
We step out from under the canopy of trees to an open expanse of rock, a solid place to stand and admire the formations over our heads. At the side, creek water rolls over boulders and skitters through, continuing its slow chisel into the earth. I tip my head back, squint my eyes and look up to take in the work of ancient winds and waters, art sculpted out of red sandstone.
Who knows how it was decided which parts of the rock would stay and which ones would float away? Whatever the give and take, the layers that lasted stand now as jagged steeples pointing up in an uncluttered sky.
No wonder the people call this place Cathedral Rock. Continue reading