The Mother of Moses: Preaching my essay to myself this morning

This is the second week of high school for my two fast-becoming-men sons. I dropped them off feeling that familiar threat, "They're never going to believe you Sheila. They're never going to love Jesus."  That voice of accusation, lies and hopelessness that likes to try and tempt me to give up.  Whatever that means. But… Continue reading The Mother of Moses: Preaching my essay to myself this morning

End of the day (very brief) thoughts: The stomach flu, Nuclear war and writing

I have about ten tabs open on my laptop for places to submit articles in the coming days. I submitted one today to Desiring God. We shall see. I feel a little like that woman who touched Jesus in the crowds of people pressing against him. She probably thought, "There's no way he's going to… Continue reading End of the day (very brief) thoughts: The stomach flu, Nuclear war and writing

4 Ways to Unwrap the Gift of Waiting on God

There's a lot of waiting on God in the Bible. Joseph's waits in prison, wrongly accused. Israel waits in captivity, suffering for her idolatry. Roman occupied Jerusalem waits for the Messiah after centuries of hearing nothing from God. And we wait for Christ's return while we sow the seed of his gospel sojourning here. Waiting… Continue reading 4 Ways to Unwrap the Gift of Waiting on God

post anesthesia thoughts

(has nothing to do with the post, just a pretty pic i took a long time ago)I'm not going to over think this post too much.  I had minor surgery today and am still feeling drunk on leftover anesthesia/fentanyl/percocet.  Consider yourself and the three other people reading this warned.In the past few weeks I've been… Continue reading post anesthesia thoughts

confessions and desires of a world-digesting writer/eater cell

Merriam-Webster defines a writer as: (noun) One that writes.Big shocker.I've been writing, well since I was about 5.  First just letters, then short, three word sentences without punctuation, then onto complete sentences and paragraphs.  By seventh grade when I had Mrs. Spicer for English I was writing essays and stories and poems and loving it.… Continue reading confessions and desires of a world-digesting writer/eater cell