When I was a kid my older brothers unrelentingly teased me. Today I don't remember what they teased me about. I was a pretty normal kid. Maybe a little wimpy, but I couldn't say I made a natural target for teasing, except that I was the youngest. I would retaliate by tattling about anything and everything. When I would complain about my brothers' teasing, my mother's reply was always the same, "Just ignore them."
A few months ago, a lady at my church asked if I'd be willing to speak at an annual dinner/fundraiser for Birthright, which is a ministry that anonymously serves pregnant women -- and those who think they might be. She wasn't sure why she felt led by God to ask me, but she chose to…
Last week we received in the mail a catalog that is to our girls like the Sears catalog was to me when I was a kid. Remember that big catalog and the pages and pages of toys? Like Ralphie with his Red Rider, I’d take a Sharpie and circle everything I wanted from Santa, which…
A few months ago Daron Sutton, the play-by-play announcer for the Arizona D-backs and son of Hall of Famer Don Sutton, suddenly stopped calling games. No explanation was given on the broadcast, as on TV news when the regular anchor is away and someone is filling in. No “Daron is on assignment and will be…
In her book on writing, Anne Lamott recommends for all rookie writers to begin with childhood, specifically what school lunch was like. Write everything you can remember, she says, about school lunch. What you ate, what others ate, what you and they traded for. Everything. I suppose, as she recommends, I could begin here, and…
One of the hardest things I've had to accept about God is that he desires to be my friend. Father to me as one who was, in a way, fatherless -- certainly. A comfort in times of distress -- without question. A solid rock in an age of uncertainy -- most assuredly. But one who wants to be my friend?
I occasionally have people at church ask about singing some of their older favorite songs. I used to get this more at a former church where we didn't offer a traditional service. My reply usually involved something about the kind of music our leadership wanted. Sometimes if they pressed me, I would tell them that there are hundreds of songs I've used in worship over the years, and quite a few of them I'd still like to use.
Some have claimed that Jesus would not have been a good church planter, for he was always saying things that drove people away from, instead of to, himself. One day he feeds thousands of people who were listening to him preach, so they return the following day anticipating another free meal.
Someday I might buy a motorcycle. Not now, but maybe when our kids are grown and don't need me as much. And when Cindy has endured me enough for one lifetime. Yes, I secretly admire motorcycles. I've never been one who willingly seeks adventure, but a part of me imagines the thrill of an open freeway at 70 mph. (I likely wouldn't go much faster.) I haven't been on a bike, though, since that fateful day when I was 5.
Something wonderful happened earlier this month, allowing me relive my junior high days. I'm not sure why I would want to, though. Netflix informed me of new TV arrivals, including a show I hadn't seen in years: "The Wonder Years."
