I caught myself scrunching my nose.
Last October, my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. My mom came upstairs and sat on my bed to share the news with me early one Saturday morning when I was home for a weekend visit.
Have you ever put money in a vending machine and then had the bag of chips get stuck? It’s an infuriating experience, and hardly matters that I’ve only lost about 50 cents.
We are all different. We have different physiques, intellects, and temperaments.
Let me be blunt: Jesus is not your superstar. He’s not going to bring glitter or glamor or bedazzle your life. He’s not here to entertain you. He’s not here to make your life more convenient or more comfortable.
I am a best friend gal.
We invite you to reflect with countless Christians around the world on these beautiful words from early church father John Chrysostom as part of your Easter celebration.
Why is Good Friday, well . . . good? Even a casual acquaintance with Good Friday observance suggests it ought to be called Sad Friday, Bad Friday, or God Is Really, Really Mad Friday.
There I was, almost 25 years old, hugging a toilet bowl in the middle of the day
I distinctly remember one visit to a church youth event in my teens.