You are More than You Know
Recently my wife, oldest daughter, and I went to an evening big-band dance in downtown Nashville. To celebrate the occasion, we took a selfie to post on Facebook. As I scanned the post to proofread it, I noticed that the app had automatically tagged my wife and my daughter in the photograph. It also tagged me... but, as someone else!
My . . .
One recent Sunday, our pastor preached from Deuteronomy 34. Preparing us for impending pastoral change, he invited us to embrace the journey to the Promised Land knowing that God's unwavering faithfulness will carry us through the pervasive uncertainty of leadership transition. As he read the passage, my heart became snagged . . .
Watching, Seeing, and Encouraging
"I'll be glad when..."
The place of my employment is undergoing significant major extensive massive renovation. (Get the picture?) Amidst the upheaval, we are learning to adjust to awkwardly placed workstations, temporary permanent walls (yes, that is a thing), construction sounds, and an occasional unnerving bang of dropped metal conduit on . . .
My Waze and God's Ways
Every weekday, I drive into downtown Nashville using a navigation app on my phone. Mindful of the adventure of navigating through a city that is experiencing unprecedented growth, I am grateful for the heads up that it provides alerting me to delays, hazards, and even potholes along the way!
On a recent trip, while attentively . . .
I love to landscape. It is both therapeutic and cathartic. Something about sinking your hands in dark brown soil and nurturing vibrant green blossoming plants stirs in me a sense of life and health. I feel "at home" in the quiet solitude of mulched gardens filled with flowers, ferns, and shrubs. And honestly, as an . . .
"Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things" (Luke 10:41 NASB).
The One who spoke those words so long ago gently reiterated them to me as I drove to work one recent morning. Agitated (and, frankly, perturbed with myself for feeling so irritated), I clung, white-knuckled to the steering wheel, lost in . . .