A few weeks ago, I was talking to my friend Aaron and shared something I’d been considering but hadn’t even mentioned to my wife: “I think I want to stop writing, at least publicly.” Aaron, a fellow author, was floored — and with good reason. For almost 12 years, I’ve spent thousands of hours writing a book, over 600 blog posts, hundreds of guest pieces for online outlets, and thousands of status updates. The pros will tell you that sustaining an audience requires maintenance. You’ve got to stay visible and keep putting out new content: another book, another blog post,…

At 4:45 a.m. in Kuwait City the sounds of gunfire began rattling through the streets outside the apartment where Maurice Graham and his family lived. It was August 2, 1990, and Saddam Hussein, the president of Iraq, had ordered an invasion of Kuwait. The Grahams had moved to Kuwait that summer so that Maurice could serve as a pastor at a large Christian church in the capital. Their apartment was located on the church grounds; and unfortunately for them, the church was across the street from the parliament building, which was a central target during the attack. There was nothing…

I still cringe when I think about that fateful moment in seventh-grade English class when Mrs. Silkman asked the question, “If you were stuck on a deserted island, what’s the one thing you’d want to have, other than food?” I don’t remember what the other kids said — probably normal stuff like video games, a house, or a fan. Not me. In my innocence, I said two words I would regret for years to come: “My kittens.” I truly did love my kittens — those puffy little offspring of Smokey, our beloved (and promiscuous) charcoal-gray momma cat. But within two…

My two-year-old son clung tightly to my neck as I tried to lower him onto the wet sand where the ocean waves were gently rolling. “You’re going to be fine,” I said, trying to pry him off my neck, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he started screaming. No matter how much I tried to convince him, he obviously had it in his head that the ocean was going to swallow him up if his feet even touched the wet sand. So, I finally gave in and walked away from the water and onto the dry sand with my son’s…

“Joshua, we need to go to a church this Sunday,” my wife said four weeks ago. We had moved to a new town right before the coronavirus hit and we hadn’t gotten much of a chance to visit churches; so for the most part, we had informal Sunday services with our kids in the living room. It was special in its own way but it wasn’t the same as gathering with other believers in person — not to say we didn’t try. After the Covid restrictions eased up and churches started meeting again, we visited one church that met in…