This morning, I was washing dishes and had my back turned to my four-year-old, who was coloring.
“Daddy, I can make a ‘V,'” she said. Read more
I wasn’t looking to be freaked out. It was 3:30 a.m., I had been working for over 22 hours, and I had to drive 45 minutes to Starkville, Mississippi. All I wanted was sleep.
While driving down the foggy, pitch-black highway, I turned on a talk radio show where the host was discussing whether kids should play with BB guns. I have a strong opinion on the topic, so when the host invited callers to respond, I picked up my cell phone and called. Read more
So I’ve been trying to figure out how to write about a non-life-threatening, chronic medical condition I have and its impact on my spiritual journey. But I’ve been avoiding it for months, because I don’t want to publicly share the details of my medical history.
So I came up with a solution: let’s just pretend I’ve got a nail in my head, right under the surface – a nail doctors can’t remove without damaging my brain. Quite frankly, it’s been more annoying than anything – but, believe me, it has been really annoying. Read more
My father, David, was younger than me when his first wife left him for another man (note: my father’s first wife was not my mother). It was 1974, and the implosion of their marriage was messy, leaving him bitter and questioning his faith.
Sitting in the passenger’s seat as his father drove down the highway, he vented his frustrations and eventually began railing against God. Read more