Not too long ago, I found an amazing recipe for biscuits from scratch. Thinking they would be great for Thanksgiving, I decided to make a practice batch to see if we liked them. While the professional photograph portrayed magnificent golden-brown rosemary, apple, bacon, and white cheddar mounds of deliciousness, my final product turned out . . .
Most every Sunday at my church, I sit at the keyboard in the choir loft. When Communion is served, I am privileged to have a direct line of sight to the Table and can easily see the elements as they are consecrated by our pastor.
One particular Sunday, when the Celebrant lifted the homemade loaf and began to break it, the bread stretched, . . .
One of the Saturday morning cartoons I loved as a child was Mr. Magoo. Bumbling along from one self-created comical peril to the next, he always escaped, utterly oblivious to the disaster he narrowly avoided. Mr. Magoo's extreme near-sightedness and blissful ignorance generated countless hold-your-breath moments that left me wondering, "How . . .
Almost a month ago, we bought a "real" kitchen trashcan: The 13-gallon, stainless steel, foot pedal, removable insert kind. It is shiny, sleek, and has significantly more capacity than our previous receptacle.
Our former kitchen trashcan was actually a rescue: a salvaged base of a paper shredder that bit the dust years ago. And although . . .
A few months ago, I woke up in the middle of the night. Feeling particularly alert, I rolled over onto my back, folded my hands across my stomach, and just listened. In the beauty of that peaceful, dark stillness, the Lord gently said, "Son, you have settled."
As an internal processor, suddenly feeling vulnerable, it's incredible to me . . .
This summer, we've had a plethora of rabbits around our neighborhood. Nibbling on tufts of grass, settling deep into patches of clover, and devouring our petunias, the pointy-eared hares have thrived amidst the heat wave we have experienced.
Most mornings when I head out the front door to go to work, there is usually a rabbit or two . . .
A number of weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night. As I lay still in the darkness, trying to fall back to sleep, I sensed the Lord speak to me. “Ruth postured herself in a position to receive blessing from Boaz.”
To be honest, I was a bit startled by God's clarity and a tad puzzled by His randomness. I didn’t . . .