This summer our son showed an interest in cooking, and scrambled eggs were first on the list.
More
Every family hands things down. I have my Granny’s china set with tiny daisies around the edges, and her Bible.
I remember almost every moment of my wedding day: the smell of the yellow roses in my bouquet, the feel of Todd’s great-grandmother’s ring slipping onto my finger, and the lightning storm that knocked out the power at our reception.
I remember when I first saw the Passover story from a Jewish perspective. In high school, I belonged to a peer group of people from many faiths.
If you know much about me, you know that I love little nerdy facts.
Lamentations is grief from beginning to end—a whole book written by people watching their city fall, naming their losses out loud, refusing to pretend the pain isn’t real.
Notice the tense. God doesn’t say, “I will make all things new,” as though newness is some far-off promise waiting for eternity.
There is a moment every gardener knows — that morning you walk outside and discover that the thing you thought was dead has put out a new leaf.