When I turned forty, I went to the eye doctor because everything had suddenly gone soft around the edges.
“Seek first the kingdom of God…” Or, as I often say it—the kin-dom.
Senior Sunday lives in that tender in-between: honoring what has been, blessing what is becoming, standing barefoot at the edge of what comes next.
The earliest surviving letter we have from Paul the Apostle is not a theological treatise—it is a love letter.
Yesterday was full of lilies and trumpets and joy that felt almost too large to hold.
Easter does not begin with certainty. It begins with a woman walking in the dark.