I was raised in a home where we were taught that we have voices.
“The problem is, I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and what’s made up,” explains Peeta in the third book of the popular Hunger Games series.
So many of us have experienced it. We hear an inspiring sermon or we encounter Jesus at a retreat and cannot wait to do more for him.
Going home for the holidays can be more complicated than you’d expect.
My younger brother wanted to be an engineer. He knew it long before he entered college, and had a plan in place.
The first time I went home from college was Thanksgiving of freshman year.
This is life isn’t it? You wake up, go to work, meet up with friends, serve at church, study, fix your car, do your laundry—the list goes on and on.
Six years ago, I was stuck in a major spiritual rut.
One of the great joys and privileges of college life is independence.
The sun rises slowly in the sky over Tokyo, waking tired university students from their happy slumber.
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Member of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students