My daughter Arwyn turns five this week, and I’m not sure that it’s possible for someone to be more excited about their birthday than she is. She's absolutely giddy about it. That might be because she knows our family is pretty big on birthday celebrations.
Sometimes I make things too complicated. I get this idea in my head that I have to do HUGE things for God, or they somehow don’t count. I hear about people moving to other countries to build orphanages, be doctors, or just learn a completely new culture in order to introduce people to Jesus.
Whenever I’m faced with uncertainty in life, I always get jealous of the people in the Bible that heard God’s voice audibly. I so badly want to hear the thunder crack and God’s unmistakably booming voice say: “Isaac, you need to do X and stop thinking about Y. ” Sadly, though, that doesn’t happen—at least not for me.
Have you ever thought about what it would have been like to be with the shepherds on the night of Jesus’ birth? Think about the miraculous wonders they witnessed. An angel of the Lord appeared and revealed to them that the promised Messiah had come. They looked on as an entire company of angels fervently worshiped God.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite days of the year. And yes, the opportunity to consume far too much turkey, mashed potatoes, and pie (so much pie!) has a lot to do with my affinity for the holiday. But there’s lots more to love about Thanksgiving beyond just food.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones. " Chances are you didn’t even have to think about the rest of the expression. It’s one of those sayings that somehow we just know. We’re born, we learn our ABC’s, and then around the same time somebody also gives us that expression.
The power was still off when I woke up Monday morning. From my front window I could already see some of the damage left behind from Sunday’s extreme bout of storms. It was just getting bright enough outside to walk around and assess the damage.
Some days, I struggle to show up to life. Some days, everything just feels like way too much. There's so much heartache and so much suffering. Across the street, around the world, across the room. Not to mention my own shortcomings and burdens.
I was on a flight a few years ago and the airport we were due to land in was experiencing some congestion on the runway due to inclement weather.
Sitting in the coffee shop, I hear the sound track of love coming from the speaker behind me. Or at least, the soundtrack of wedding receptions. Frank Sinatra is, “saying something stupid like I love you,” while Etta James, “wants a Sunday kind of love.