I straighten the stocking on it’s fireplace hook and take a step back to evaluate my work. Something about the way the loop is sewn to the stocking itself makes it resistant to my every attempt to help it hand plumb, and I concede that it is good enough. Decorating for Christmas is a bit
I love good food. I love small plates of fine foods and big bowls of pasta. I love the unctuousness of quality EVOO, the richness of salted butter on homemade bread, the cold familiarity of ripe watermelon, and the bite of lime squeezed over a taco. I love food. But … though this doesn’t happen
READ EXODUS 27 We’ve been reminded this week of the innate purpose of the Tabernacle: for God to come and dwell among His people. This is the promise of the tabernacle design: the God of heaven was coming to earth to dwell among His people. The word we looked at earlier this week was שָׁכַן
The alarm buzzed somewhere beyond my comprehension and wrestled me from my sleep. Weary, groggy, and just a big achy, I gathered myself up, and switched on the light. Shuffling to the kitchen, I started turning over in my mind the day’s to-do list: I need to first make coffee, I need to check to
*The following post is from the current study through the book of Philippians for digital subscribers. You’re seeing this post because I accidentally made it public – whoops! But that gives YOU a sneak peek into what we’re studying in the book of Philippians! Consider this a sample day, and if you’d like to subscribe
I scanned the isle of colorful cleaning supplies intensely. My eyes fluttered from a bright purple brand promising that, with its help, I would clean my bathroom half as often and in half the time, to the neon yellow bottle boasting large bubble letters that read “For an EFFORTLESS clean.” And I sighed. This is
That little red number blazed at me on the top right of my computer screen. I had effectively ignored the fact that it was alerting me to the reality that someone had sent me a message, but every time I logged on it relentlessly popped up. Having stared at me three days, I was torn
I woke this morning to a living room I did not recognize. It was a skeleton of what I had grown accustomed to. Nothing was as it should be, nothing was where it should have been. Everything about our living room in the brightness of the morning was different, and it took me a few
I pulled the hand weight up to my shoulder, letting out one last grunt. I eyed myself from every angle in the mirror-clad room, as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. Putting the weights back in their place, I gathered my things from the shelf (I’ve never had enough patience for a cool-down