When confusion arises—when you realize you are lost—it is customary to wander, searching, hoping aimlessly. The rule is, if you are lost, stop wandering. Stop. Your wandering confusion is making matters worse.
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Right now, our herd is separated. We are quarantined from each other. Suspicion is high.
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A cold civil war is better than a hot civil war, but it is not a good situation for a country to be in.
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For this article, I want to emphasize literature, thoughtfulness, and time.
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Part of what’s troubling about being under the house in the dark is that you can’t see.
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When I knock on a door, especially God’s door, I expect the one who is everywhere, all the time, to answer the door.
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On the road to recovering your depleted soul, self-care is essential.
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It isn’t only what happened to my actual work, but what happened to my work day and my work rhythm.
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Unless I decided to walk away from thousands and thousands of dollars, I had no alternative but to stay in the cage.
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I was stunned that nothing concerning us in 2014 needed to be edited for relevance in 2016.
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If this circus wasn’t occurring in America, I would find it fascinating. Fascinating in the awkward way a voyeur must feel looking from the outside in.
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Worry is built upon a false supposition—that God is insufficient to handle your concerns.
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If no one knows the hour or the day of Christ’s return—not even Jesus Himself—it seems there might be some encouragement more concrete from our heavenly Father than wistfully praying for the second coming of Christ. I mean, what if today or tomorrow or Tuesday are not the assigned day? What then?
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But that’s as far as confession took me. In fact, once I admitted the problem it flared up with more intensity than ever.
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I expected Him to be at churches around the world admiring all of the new clothes, but He met me on an asphalt street, in an unknown yard, with a four-legged emissary.
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Trust is confidence in God even when it appears He isn’t worthy of my belief
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I felt it best if He stayed on His side of the universe and I stayed on mine.
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All was well. The only difference between the daylight of tomorrow and the darkness enveloping the bedroom was that I couldn't see. But that didn't alter the fact that I was secure.
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Is the reputation of darkness all that it's cracked up to be? Is darkness really that deep? Is it honestly the absence of light, especially the light of Christ? Are our only options to hunker down and wait for morning or cut and run in any direction hoping to stumble upon a flicker of light somewhere in the dark?
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How dark was it? So dark that I couldn't see my brother, eighteen inches away, or even my hand in front of my face.
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