The Paintbrush…

I have four children, each one is precious to me. My firstborn was the first: the first child born to our family, the first one we taught to walk, the first one we walked to school, and the first one to leave home. He was the “trial run” that paved the way for his siblings.Continue reading “The Paintbrush…”

About Those Potato Chips

This time of year, we take part in a fast. It’s always a very meaningful time where we push back and set our minds on our relationship with the Lord and what He has planned for us in the coming year. It’s kind of a reset button that helps us keep our ears and heartsContinue reading “About Those Potato Chips”

How Incredibly Reckless

Then came the call to plant churches. This disturbed my idyllic life on the mission field. I can’t say that the call came in the form of a great vision or prophecy. It came more like something we knew we had to do. At first, it was exciting – the very idea of starting a church from nothing was intriguing. Where would we go? How would we start? Who would come?

Deeply Personal

In this world of great pain and need, what can be done to bring meaningful change? On the African continent alone, there are hundreds of millions of stories like these; it feels like an impossible situation. I am daily assaulted with feelings of despair when I see hungry children, abused women, and hopelessness in the eyes of the vulnerable.

Are we exempt from doing anything because whatever we do won’t be enough to touch vast swaths of the population?

Half Baked or Old School?

My parents were “old school.”
Go to bed on time.
Do your homework.
No TV until homework was done.
Clean the house on Saturdays.
Eat what was set before you, every last bite.
We had to make sure we did everything we were told in its entirety. If our chores were “half baked,” that was considered to be worse than not having done anything at all.