When I was about 9 years old my father took me to England.
Last weekend, I was in New York City. It was a vacation, and a homecoming. This was the first time I had made the trip in order to visit where I lived and worked so many years ago. Most of the people I knew from that time period have moved on: like me they have … Continue reading Visiting NYC
Memory is not my strong point. Sometimes I can remember every word that was said, every movement made, but that is few and far between. Normally, my memories are fairly vague and frequently associated with a feeling or impression. However, there is one distinct memory that I still hold on to, from when I was about 10 years old.
Does my own passion to be with Jesus unintentionally crowd out those who need Him?
Mornings. So much to enjoy; so much to avoid. Waking up is like an uncomfortable re-birth every day. Sleep is such a welcome reprieve from thinking about any- and every-thing. Even an uncomfortable bed feels like a snugly cocoon when the alarm goes off. If it's cold in the room, blankets make it easier to … Continue reading Meaningful Mornings
Over the past ten years or so, I tried a few different medications to get help with depression, mood swings, and a lack of focus that has plagued me since my teenage years.
Recently, the message on Sunday included a history lesson about the writer of the hymn "Amazing Grace". I had never known that the writer, while at the time of writing was a village clergyman in England, had been a slave trader and sailor of such bad behavior that he had been not only imprisoned in … Continue reading Amazing Grace