A new day is dawning. My new website is up! You may have arrived here by entering the address for my blog site: Writing for the Glory of God. You’ve been redirected. I’m still writing for God’s glory. That will never …
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“We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 ESV). A perfect day. We had one. Perfect days are rare on this fallen earth, …
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The Savior called me to run a marathon. He asked me to educate my own children. This isn’t his agenda for everyone; but it was his agenda for our family (see End of an Era). When he called, I was flummoxed. …
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We humans long for blissful days—unchanging, joyful, stretching out year after year. This is the yearning of our hearts. We believe that happy days on this earth will satisfy us. We don’t like change; we want all to remain lovely …
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The path is daunting. I’m in a turmoil of emotion as I craft this post. As usual, I’m attempting to juggle too many plates (again). Keeping everything up in the air is particularly challenging this time. Every plate is fraught …
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On Easter weekend the thirteen young adults receiving baptism stood before hundreds and testified, nervously unfolding their individual stories to the masses. One after another—some shyly, others boldly, each stepped up to the microphone. Their accounts brought tears. All were …
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Piercing your brow, a crown of thorns was embedded in your flesh, a cruel and mocking implement of torture. Sweat and blood dripped from your brow—no hand was free to wipe the salty rivulets from your eyes. Stinging. Burning. Sins of …
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In the weeks before Jesus’ crucifixion, his disciples squabbled over who would be the greatest in his kingdom—the kingdom they expected him to set up at that time, where he would rule as an earthly potentate. John and James’ mother …
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The melody of rain dripping off the eaves, pounding onto the roof, and running through the gutters is a welcome sound in March. I pause to gaze on its pouring—my favorite scents and sounds wash over me, pleasing the senses. …
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In rapper fashion, my little granddaughter wears her oversized red ball cap backward, her tiny blue jeans sagging low on her hips as she toddles onto the front porch. I squat down to tell her good-bye—I’ll see her later. Unexpectedly, …
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