The One Thing That Grows Trust

Trusting people is hard for me. What about you? It’s not mainly because I believe people are so sinful they aren’t worthy of being trusted. That’s can be true sometimes. No, it has more to do with me. I don’t want to trust them. Trust means I need to be close, vulnerable, intimate. It’s easier to keep…

We All Get to Choose

“You’re gonna have to serve somebody.” – Bob Dylan Every day we wake up with choices to make. Hundreds if not thousands of them. Some easy. Some hard. And we get through the day by making choices. It’s easy to forget this and play the victim. I was reminded of (reproved by?) this at a…

Write Again

In eleven years of publishing posts on this site, I had only missed posting seven months. Seven. In eleven years. And most of those months off were taken off by design because of various seasons of life. But then 2018 came. We moved back to Nebraska, after having moved twice in the previous year. We’ve settled…

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn 2017

If you’ve paid close attention, the last few posts here have been related to lament. That’s mostly because I gave a seminar (earlier today) on that topic at our Cru Winter Conference in Denver. Another reason—for the recent posts and my interest in giving the seminar—is that much of this past year was lamentable for…

The Pits and Christmas

It’s the pits. The worst, most depressing situation you can imagine. We use it playfully today, exaggerating our circumstance. The saying has lost its luster. But it was not always so. Out of the 150 chapters in Psalms, perhaps as many as 65 to 67 of them are laments or what we can call “complaint…

A Christmas Poem, “Hands”

Hands Open on your mother’s chest or after a bellowing belch. Taut when you’re tired. Slurp slurp, tick tick, your tongue tackles each knuckle and cuticle. Somehow that helps you fade away to never-never-land. Mine are calloused, crusty, tired. Splinters are their wages. Blue veins bursting. Palm lines peeling. Bleeding. Grab the balm and bandage….