May Love Drive Our Labor

My dad corrected me once, a hundred times. I mean, when he corrected me about something, I never wanted to make that mistake again. But there were a hundred different mistakes requiring singular correction. In this case, my adolescent self sauntered off for another...

Irony From My Juvenile Forensics

As a debater from 8th through 12th grade, I spent untold hours finding evidence in UTA’s library, writing briefs, practicing rhetoric, scrimmaging debates, reading current events, and ultimately applying it all at tournaments around Texas. In those moments, I was so...

Big, Dark, and Scary

When my granddaughter was not yet quite 4, my son-in-law and I thought it would be a good idea to take her to the theater for a piece of cinematic fluff the name of which has since left my mind. We had talked about the possibility that at her tender age it might be...

Unexpected Realities

I met with some other Christian educators in Nashville a while back, as planned. I did not expect my hanging clothes to stay in Nashville, nor Joan’s. But they did. As I drove back from Nashville late Saturday night I did not expect a flu-incipient pastor to invite me...

A Twilight Zone Morning

Recently I experienced a Twilight Zone of a Sunday morning. The Southlake church where I am preaching is completely new to me. That’s not unusual. What is unusual is how many incidental relationships from my very young ministry are there. The pastor himself served a...