I hadn’t checked my mailbox at the post office in a few days, so it was rather full.
I set about trying to remove its contents but complicating the job was a small, stout envelope. It was the lynchpin to the jam and had to be removed first.
“All you preachers ever talk about is money,” a man complained having just sat through my once-a-year sermon on giving.
Clearly, giving was a sensitive subject for that man, as it is for many. It seems that all the preaching on giving, including the televangelists’ shameless shakedowns, is balled together and attributed to every preacher.
Early last Sunday morning, a relative sent me a text with a photo of a page from a book he was reading.
Enlarging the photo, I saw that the topic of discussion on the page was God’s grace, and it defined grace as, “God rewards me for letting him reward me.”
One Sunday morning before a worship service, a young girl in the congregation, her face alight with a bright smile, handed me a piece of scratch-pad paper.
“Pastor, I made this for you,” she said. I am grateful anytime anyone is thoughtful enough to make something for me, so I thanked her.
My wife will occasionally ask me to read to her because she says that my voice is soothing and puts her to sleep.
She asks at bedtime, and I confess, I don’t often comply because I am tired. I like the fact that my wife finds my voice that soothing; it’s kind of like a superpower.
I have a good friend, Frank Manno, who is a professional photographer like no other.
What makes Frank unique is that he is legally blind. Retinitis pigmentosa is slowly robbing him of sight, and yet he takes amazing photographs.
I recently made a mistake that was nonetheless correct.
Like some of you, I began typing with the hunt-and-peck method. I was certain that some fiend came in every night and rearranged all the keys.
There is an adage that asserts you can never truly go home because nothing stays the same, everything changes.
I recently spent two weeks in my hometown visiting family, my first trip since the pandemic, and the adage was proven true, nothing was as I remembered it.
In my life, butter tarts and the Bible have something in common.
What is a butter tart? A butter tart is a buttery, sugary, distinctly Canadian dessert, like a pecan pie, only better. What does a butter tart have in common with the Bible?
Some three decades ago, when I entered full-time Christian ministry, it occurred to me that I was entering a field that, at its foundation, is unchanging.
It was comforting to know that the God I serve, the God of the Bible, is unchanging. Who He is, He has always been and always will be.
