All in Life
Open Letter to Governor Abbott
These industries contribute to what makes Texas unique and cannot endure for long as your office hinders them due to inadequate standards and definitions.
Joy in the Journey
Consider the work of God: who can make straight, what He has made crooked. He has made it crooked for His glory, to turn your face to Him. Shall we rejoice, even in this crooked journey? Yes! His grace is sufficient.
Finding the Root of Joy
We clip away activities. We change locations. We do everything on the surface except examine our roots. True joy can only be rooted in our union with Christ.
The Cruciform Marriage
Marriage often seems a zero-sum game: I get what I want at the expense of your giving up something you want. This fuels discontentment, which is a close cousin to the bitterness which poisons and kills so many marriages.
my feelings vs. the church calendar
This calendar is neither commanded nor forbidden. And for me, it shoulders some of the burdens. It is an invitation to follow a slightly different year, not the 12-month hustle, but the rotating, repeating seasons of the church.
Longing For The Bride
This Advent I want to start longing for his bride again. You cannot have Christ without his bride, and you cannot love and serve Christ without loving and serving his bride.
The Cruciform Single
Single or married, your identity is in Christ because you, now and always, are in Christ. So live like that’s your identity, because, after all, it, and it alone, is.
Autumn
Middle age is autumn.
O Canada
The drive to Canada was long. It included North Dakota (we detoured), a new state for me, and a drive past the Medicine Rocks of Montana. Other than that, the main excitement was Judah’s response to the Canadian Border Guard.
I Ain't Got Rhythm
For me, this fall has been a lesson in this. I feel like I’m relearning my rhythms all over again. Morning prayer and scripture reading are different during school than in summer. Afternoon reading shifts to times of silence.
All Done
She was all done. I had carried her home. My heart sang at the thought of one day saying, “all done Jesus. I am home.”
Northward Ho!
The Black Hills possess a romance in nature and story, ancient geography that is majestic in formation and yet still, somehow, accessible. Perhaps merely the influence of a wonderful childhood vacation, but I hold a surprisingly strong attachment to the area and the route was confirmed.
Hail, South Dakota! and Land of Living Skies
Even after a filling dinner, the pies did not persevere long. And the children quickly feel asleep as the van was loaded for our trek to Canada.
memento that mori
I cry thinking about the people I've lost whose gravestones I can't visit, for whatever reason. I cry thinking about the people who are dead while they still live. I cry reading tributes to parents, spouses, wondering if I will leave anyone behind. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, does it?