To be a pastor is to return, every week, to face the hungry crowds. To offer, in outstretched and shaking hands, two loaves and five fishes, knowing full well it will never be enough. You are not the one who multiplies. You are Elijah’s widow, scraping...
I had the joy of speaking at our little church this past Sunday and, because I got to choose the text, I focused on 1 John 4:7-19. I talked about the love of God that we are made from and for – the love of God that abides in us and invites us to abide in...
Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” But he did not answer her at all....
I’m preaching on a difficult passage of scripture this Sunday, one I would not have chosen. This rough poem arrived mid-week as I found myself wrestling the text. Frustrated, I stopped to reflect on what I was doing and found myself invited to let...
Sitting on the old leather couch or rocking slowly in a rickety glider, I’m surrounded by my children as we read together. I feed my little ones on stories morning, noon and night. Serving up Harry the Dirty Dog for breakfast, The Magic Tree House becomes...
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