The gifts are all opened. The breakfast casserole and monkey bread have been devoured, and everyone has gone back to bed. Including my wife.
I don’t believe in Jesus all the time. You might. This has not been my experience.
Sometimes God uses a sign or wonder to let us know we don’t need a sign or wonder.
It happened to him, the same as it happened to me.
I will not be casting a vote for Trump because I simply do not believe in his politics. But he IS my brother. And I’m no better than him. Not one bit.
On the spectrum of belief, of faith in God, I probably log in at a 7 most days. I’m not a 10.
It doesn’t matter how much you love someone. It matters how much they feel loved. I have a […]
When I was little, my mom used to say when she got to heaven all she wanted to […]
When God wears short sleeves and a pair of Toms, I can breathe better. When he’s in his […]
I only thought about Phillip being gay. And his gay friends. And his gay cat, his gay refrigerator, his gay love seat. I expected spandex. I expected piercings, midriffs, combat boots and daisy dukes. What’s worse, I was stuck wondering if this disease was his own fault.
“Redemption will never burst through the door waving a flag of victory. Instead, we must look under every rug we have swept our pain and tragedy beneath. We must write our names in the dirt left behind on the floor of our lives. And when we find the courage to write them out…redemption will come to us, the quiet hush within our hearts.”