A few years ago, my wife and I were privileged to spend a long birthday weekend in South Carolina with two other couples. The large lakehouse was cozy and beautiful and the fellowship was rich and nourishing to my soul.
On one of our afternoon trips, we explored an incomplete railroad tunnel dug by hand into Stumphouse Mountain. The . . .
We have a trashcan under our kitchen sink. It's an odd size in the fact that small garbage bags are too small and "kitchen size" bags are, well, too large. While we've opted to use the latter, the reality is that even when the trashcan is full, there is still room in the bag. So, we've gotten in the habit of pulling the partially filled bag . . .
In my previous blog entry, "MASTERclass," I shared how the relationship between a vocal student and his operatic mentor, captured in this video clip, was analogous to our encounters with God. I must confess, however, that there was something that transpired that I did not include in that blog.
The incident happens right at . . .
Several months after my mom passed away, I scheduled an appointment with a dear brother who cuts my hair. It was good medicine to see him. Amidst the hustle and bustle of his salon, our conversation drifted from topic to topic carried along by his infectious joy, his tender heart, and his deep compassion.
As we continued to catch up, I . . .
Remembering the Story, Redeeming the Grief, and Reaping the Joy
One of the difficult parts of our transition from Pennsylvania to Tennessee was the reality that we would not often be able to visit the gravesite of our twin daughters. While we had the assurance that Amanda and Catherine are in heaven, we also recognized that the many undisturbed moments of graveside reflection in the serene beauty of . . .
In a recent blog, "I'll Sit Right Here," I shared how God graciously intervened in my life amidst the swirling vortex of anxiety as I trained for a new job. While I would love to say that encounter was the tipping point for a victorious walk of overcoming courage, it wasn't.
As the lengthy onboarding process continued, I found . . .
Celebrating the ever-presence of God
"I'll sit right here."
Those were the words I sensed God speaking to me as I stared at the empty chair beside my keyboard. About to begin the last session of a retreat, those words came as a breath of fresh air to this one suffocating under a cloak of shame.
The previous evening, I discovered that I had obliviously been stepping . . .