He’s holding you

You work so hard as if the hours you spend sweating and digging planning arguing and solving will make everything right. Then it rains on your freshly poured concrete and a sudden wind bends the trees you just planted and the test is positive- you're going to have a baby and your cursing and anger… Continue reading He’s holding you

Why you should put your hope in the Jesus of the Bible

It's Jesus that my friends and family trip over when it comes to faith. They're OK with a general nameless, faceless deity- a benevolent one. They admit not understanding but throw their hands in the air hoping that God won't judge them any differently than they judge themselves. They trust that he (or she, or… Continue reading Why you should put your hope in the Jesus of the Bible

Hope for a sick heart

"I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope." Hosea 2:15 This verse came via email to me today like shade in the hot Arizona sun. I used to tolerate the heat in Arizona pretty well, but as the years have gone by, I haven't grown… Continue reading Hope for a sick heart

Practices with your Bible that will keep you humble (and make William Tyndale proud)

The accessibility of scripture is something people before us have given their lives for. William Tyndale (1494-1536) laid down his life so that, "... the boy who drives the plow," could know the scriptures even better than the Pope of his time. The stories of how the translation of the Bible, at the blood, sweat… Continue reading Practices with your Bible that will keep you humble (and make William Tyndale proud)

Man shall not live by Prozac alone

In March, Fathom Mag published an article I wrote about my own struggle to concede my need for an anti-depressant. A wise pastor and friend helped me to see that medication was not an alternative to provision from God. It was a provision from God. I've been taking Prozac for a couple years now and… Continue reading Man shall not live by Prozac alone

Every Morning

He struts, raises his decorated neck making himself a little taller, and trumpets his proud shout. And before he’s crowed not three times - just once- I’ve already denied What I once announced with pride. The dawn of my failing faith belongs to the birds. They raise a mocking chorus. Whistles and tweets, chirps and… Continue reading Every Morning