Tough Guys and Drama Queens

In nearly every aspect of life, I tend to be well-prepared and deliberate. A thinker, I am typically slow to react, though not quite at the snail’s pace I’ve found some church committees move. In music, I’m well-rehearsed. In writing posts here, I edit multiple times before clicking “publish.” Even my clothing selections for Sunday…

Advertisements

Serving Suggested: Thoughts on Dessert Cereal

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…

There’s Still Bubbles

Micah and I were in a public restroom a couple weeks ago. I was trying to help him wash his hands, which proved to be difficult due to the height of the sink -- we use a stool at home -- and the faucet was one of those push-on varieties, the kind that you have to press every couple of seconds. I had to keep telling him that, no, we weren't done yet: "I still see bubbles. Let's get all the bubbles off."

Posthumous Letters

Several years ago I was packing my bags for an international flight, a trip that would take me to Guatemala, and I felt I needed to write Cindy and the girls a letter. Three letters, one each to be read in case something fatal happened to me.

Shepherding my family (while guarding them against Pelagianism)

I wrote last week about my renewed view of the role of a pastor and how I am prioritizing pastoring my own family. Pastors aren't the only ones who should pastor their families. All fathers are called to the role of shepherd, to the responsibility of shepherding our children, as well as our wives. A wonderful resource to help with this is Voddie Baucham Jr.'s "Family Shepherds."

Harvest Moon

At 2 years old, Micah’s depth perception is a tad off. Allow me to explain. He likes it when I tuck him in bed at night, but it wasn’t always this way. He only ever wanted Cindy to take him up to bed, but one night several months ago when Cindy was gone for the evening, I took him up.

My Brother, the Con Artist

A couple weeks ago Micah and I got some crayons and a coloring book out. He liked scribbling/coloring for a little while but found more joy in rolling the oversized crayons across the table -- sort of like table hockey. It was while we were coloring that I recalled something from childhood.