Dear Carmen, in the middle of your very poignant piece about the grace and power of the Lord as shown through water, another thought captured my attention. When surveying your flooded office . . .
The bouquet of shiny red and blue stars jostled each other for position against the car’s soft tan ceiling. The squeak of plastic rubbing plastic made me think about the community that can be nourished by the simple act of buying helium balloons . . .
The student pulled the frayed bill of his dark gray baseball cap over his eyebrows and slumped further down on the brown sofa in my office. He had been late again with a paper . . .
As an old millenial or a young Gen Xer and as someone who ministers among graduate students who are mostly millenials, I have read with interest Rachel Held Evans’ “Why millenials are leaving the church,” and the widespread discussion . . .
This post is not a Pollyanna-esque rambling about spreading smiles all over the world. It's not an abstract inspirational piece with little practical application. This post is a description . . .
I went strawberry-picking with a friend the other day. The afternoon sun was welcome after so many weeks of cold, wet weather, and when it got too warm, a good breeze blew coolness through the rows of low-growing green plants . . .
I sit in a coffee shop near my high school that I frequented as a teenager. It feels odd to sit in this place as an adult. I feel very different from who I was when I left here. I’ve lived in six different states since then . . .
