All of the fault lines dividing us that have been exploited in American culture over the last four years will still be intact no matter when the ballots finish being counted and no matter who wins.
As we survey the world around us, where is Jesus? Where is our Savior in the midst of rising pandemic deaths and ruthless injustice for our neighbors?
What is going on in the world means something to me.
Our family has decided that we are #frontyardpeople. We are a family who deliberately spends time in our front yard and we welcome others to […]
Lately, I’ve gotten into gardening. We are lucky enough to live in a home on a church property, with places around the property where we can garden.
Some of my earliest memories are exploring the forty-five acre farm I grew up on. I remember my cousin showing me how to find spit bugs and thinking it was a miracle that hundreds of these little bugs were there wrapped under leaves and yet I had never seen them before.
As I write this, tens of thousands of people have gathered for a tenth straight day from New York City to San Francisco, in every state and at least 11 nations, to protest racism and police brutality.
Fifty-four years ago, my father-in-law set out to walk 220 miles from Memphis, Tennessee to Jackson, Mississippi. Even though the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had passed less than a year earlier, a stronghold of fear still gripped African American voters, especially in the South.
Last fall sometime, I declared our family’s Bible passage to be Hebrews 12:1-3 for the school year. I chose it mostly for our oldest son, who in fourth grade, was continuing to struggle to find motivation.
A formerly homeschooled kid myself, I never felt the desire to homeschool my own children.