We live in a world of scorekeeping. When someone wrongs us, we often say, “I forgive you, but I won’t forget.”
We live in a world of scorekeeping. When someone wrongs us, we often say, “I forgive you, but I won’t forget.”
When I was in college, I had a friend whose father liked to tease me about being Methodist. Whenever I visited, he would have a Bible open to 1 Timothy 2:11–14, ready to ask if we had women pastors.
“Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of faith is to see what you believe.” Saint Augustine
Not long ago, I was part of a funeral that ended with a surprising choice of music—Judy Garland singing “Get Happy.”
When I was younger, I spent time helping my grandfather on his farm.
Many of us know the remarkable story of First United Methodist Church of Fort Worth.
There was a season in my life when I felt a shift, an internal nudge from God that it was time to move beyond what was familiar.
When I was growing up, I was involved in scouting. Our troop met in the basement of First United Methodist Church of Monticello, and I was determined to earn my Eagle Scout badge—even though I got a bit of a late start.
We’ve all heard the phrase: “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” While it’s not from Scripture, there’s a thread of truth woven through it—especially when we think about what it means to be ready, inside and out, to represent the heart of God.
Psalm 50, attributed to Asaph, a Levite known for music and prophecy, opens with a bold declaration that God “speaks” not quietly, not passively, but calling out to “all the earth” from Zion, the place of beauty and presence.