Walking in the Dust of the Rabbi Jesus

A little over a decade or so ago I read a book that transformed my view of the Bible. The book was Philip Yancey's "The Bible Jesus Read." ... I read another book recently that may change as dramatically the way I read the New Testament, or at least the Gospels. Lois Tverberg's "Walking in the Dust of the Rabbi Jesus" helped to transport me to the time and culture of Jesus on earth.

A Friend to the Lonely

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?

Dunking My Baby

Jacque had expressed a few weeks ago that she wanted to be baptized. Several years ago I baptized Lindsay in our pool, but Jacque didn’t quite understand back then what the point was. So we talked about it recently, and we agreed that I would baptize her at the picnic. At my church, they baptize differently than any church I’ve been a part of.

Needing more time to revamp my image

If later today on my commute to the office a car failed to yield—why am I blaming someone else? maybe I will have failed to yield—and my life was over in an instant, I’m certain I will be remembered in the way I don’t really want to be remembered. ... I guess what I’m driving at is that I could well be remembered for my accomplishments or my gifts, but how I really want to be remembered is the way I loved others. Which means I can’t die today. I’d better drive more carefully, since I need some time to revamp my image. I’ve backed the wrong horse, even if I’m slightly afraid of them.

Crushes on a few Cindys

In seventh grade I had simultaneous crushes on two different Cindys. One was in history class and the other in English. I’m not sure why I’m remembering them. Except, I was thinking about how I wasn’t really in their social circle but if I had run into one of them in a store, out of the realm of her friends and school environment, then perhaps our relationship could have moved forward—if even slightly.

Simplifying the Law

If ever you’ve installed any kind of software or signed up for a web service, like paperless billing from your electric company, then you’ve encountered the EULA—End User License Agreement. The EULA describes in painstaking detail what you, the user, are allowed to do. I don’t know anyone, except for maybe a lawyer with time on his hands, who has read the EULA. We just click the “Agree” button and move on. Just as lawyers and doctors tend speak in their own trade language, so do many Christians. ...

Irreconcilable Differences (Part 2) – I Do … Again

On Monday, I touched somewhat briefly on how divorce has affected me. But I could write a series of posts on divorce and its effect on a child, at least from a personal view—anything more extensive sounds like a lot of work with a ton of research. So here I’ll just write from my own perspective and share some wonderful stories of how irreconcilable differences became reconcilable.

Celebrating My Twin Sister’s Birthday

Becky and I played together constantly. Sometimes we played with my collection of Hot Wheels, some of which Dad would dig up from the backyard decades later. Other times we played with her Barbies. Yes, I admit I played with Barbies. Cindy thinks that my having played with dolls has made me a more sensitive father. I think it’s made me a better dresser.

The Thrill Is Gone

Remember Fruit Stripe gum? Such lively flavor. And five different ones, not like the boring only-one-flavor-in-a-pack Hubba Bubba or Big League Chew. Plus you got seventeen sticks, not just five. Good thing, because you needed all of them. The flavor in a stick of Fruit Stripe gum lasted about a minute. ... Did you ever have a boyfriend or girlfriend who broke up with you because he or she didn’t love you anymore? Did you ever say those words to someone else? I did. And I had those words spoken to me: I think I just don’t love you anymore. And even worse, the postscript: I’m not sure I ever did.