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While We Wait
The Assignment Hidden in the Pause This Tuesday morning, I realized how much of our life is being lived in the language of waiting. We are waiting for the house to sell. Waiting to move. Waiting to discover where our next home will be. Waiting to know what must go with us and what should…
STILLNESS IN THE NOISE
This Sunday morning, Tanya and I are staying home. We will bind the next manuals for the prison School of Ministry. After these, I will lecture through the remaining material as I did for more than forty years in the university. The men will listen, take notes, and complete written exercises. So, this will not…
STUMBLING OVER AN ECHO
It is late Friday evening. Tanya and I are watching an old film—The Painted Lady. Well, not terribly old. It was made in 1997. At 88, one’s definition of “old” becomes flexible. Then I came across a few words about dreams gathering dust—dreams discovered beneath old fears and inside boxes that had not been opened…
The Day Began with Dishes
Some of the days that changed my life forever began like any other day. Coffee. Dishes. A few messages answered. Things moved from one place to another. Nothing in the morning announced that the road was about to turn. But before the day ended, a telephone call came. A door opened. Someone spoke a sentence…
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