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All I really remember about my first few years of lessons is that I wanted to play. My brother and sister both played, and it looked like fun. When I started, it was the pure joy of creating something beautiful and meaningful out of nothing.

In Acts 17, Paul is basically called a nitwit by his new friends. Here’s what happened.

This man got a pair of gloves, and I got a blessing. I think I came out ahead.

Loving small means doing small things, helpful things, things not all that striking, but doing them with great love.

One of our greatest hopes for our friends in Bethania is that they might believe, think, and act outside the myth of scarcity—and live instead into the liturgy of abundance.

In November of 2016, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer after a routine mammogram.

Darlene and I attended the same church from birth. Yet I didn’t really notice her until she was a teenager and her swollen arm was in a sling because of a bee sting. 

The guidebook described the lakeside campground as one of the great family destinations in California if you don’t mind the drive.

A red heart catches my eye.

Panic surged through Wall Street in October of 1929. On October 24, stock prices plunged briefly before several large banks intervened and the market rallied.

I am like many women you may know. I am in my forties and the mother of three wonderful children. I fancy gardening and estate sales and am partial to dark chocolate.

Since I retired, I've found myself reminiscing more.

There had been no symptoms.

Many people have heard about the need for foster parents. But probably fewer have thought much about the needs of foster parents.

In the final weeks of my mom’s life, she made me a promise.

Darlene Zschech wrote a beautiful hymn some 20 years ago called “The Potter’s Hand” that is still sung in congregations today.

In the spring of 2013, Dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

For 12 years I worked as the chief student life officer at two Christian colleges.

Her name is Semira*, and the cleaning services she offered were a Mother’s Day gift to me from my parents.

A few years ago I traveled to India with a group from my seminary.

The guests kept coming, and I kept mixing. 

In seventh grade, John* told me he liked me.

“Blessed are the peacemakers,” said Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount,