He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
In his memoir, On Writing, Stephen King expresses an aversion to adverbs. He does so unequivocally (sorry, Mr. King), saying, “F…k adverbs!” I read Mr. King's book as an assignment for a class called Writing for Teachers and sadly the only thing I have retained is this colorful phrase about a certain part of speech... Continue Reading →
When I was five years old, I was given my first Bible. It was a King James version with tiny print and a surplus of thee's and thou's. However, it did have about a dozen illustrations which depicted dramatic biblical scenes. There was Noah's ark tossing precariously on massive waves and Samson straining between two... Continue Reading →
The documentary, 100 Foot Wave, depicts the quest of certain surfers to find and ride the biggest waves on the planet. At one point in the film, they describe what it's like when you fall off the board and are churned by a monster wave, not knowing when the blender will spurt you out. You... Continue Reading →
When I was in high school, I fancied myself an intellectual by reading (skimming, really) the existentialist authors of the day, John Paul Sartre and Albert Camus. At the wise age of 17, I pondered the big questions of life and spirituality and soon it was clear I had it all figured out. I began... Continue Reading →
I was 10 years old... too old for a babysitter (I thought) but too young to be left alone in the evening, (so my parents thought.) They went to dinner parties at least three times a week, leaving me with our senior border collie, Shep, who barked at nothing and emitted gross smells of which... Continue Reading →
Cheryl (pseudonym) and I glanced at the wall clock in the Sunday School room. Fifteen minutes to go until the parents would return and retrieve their charges. In toddler time, that can feel like fifteen hours. We had completed our story time, our snack, our singing and free play. The craft was done and the... Continue Reading →
When I was 17 I hitchhiked through Europe with my brother. It was the 1970s and, as strange as it sounds, my parents seemed OK with this. My brother's hair was well past his shoulders and I was doing my best to look like Peggy Lipton from the Mod Squad or Susan Day from the... Continue Reading →
We call her Kacie-Facie. Or simply The Face. I mean, how could you not? Just look at her! Fifteen years ago, on a sunny day in early May, Alex and I drove to a Denny's parking lot, off the highway, midway between the Indiana breeder and our Chicago home. We had done our research. According... Continue Reading →
In 1969 a suburban Chicago businessman named Kenneth Taylor devoted his daily train commute to paraphrasing the Bible into modern accessible text. It was called the Living Bible and my copy was green. I slept with this book, hugging it as one would a stuffed animal or squishy pillow. At 13, I was too old... Continue Reading →
Mr. Thayer's lecture was veering from the Revolutionary War to incidentals from his childhood. The hands on the wall clock refused to move. I was being held captive in 5th grade history, the last period of the day. The only positive was the window. I scanned the parking lot for our station wagon. Today my... Continue Reading →
I love asking people of faith about their practices. Cathy says she is reading through the whole Bible with the Moody Bible Commentary by her side. She also reads a daily devotional called Jesus Calling. Susie writes verses on index cards and places them on her car's dashboard and the bathroom mirror. She is memorizing... Continue Reading →
You are precious in my eyes. And honored. And I love you. Isaiah 43:4a When I first read this verse I did a double take. How is it I never heard it before? Surely this was a loose paraphrase of the ancient text. And surely God was referring to the nation of Israel, 700... Continue Reading →
Ten round kindergarten faces stare at my mother, eyes saucer-big. She's waving her hands in the air lamenting with the bride's father that the wine has run out. Then she's Mary pleading to her son for a miracle - Jesus reluctant at first, but finally producing the best wine Cana can offer. Mom deftly drops... Continue Reading →
I was sneaking into the kitchen for a nighttime bowl of Cheerios when I noticed the door to my parents' bedroom was slightly ajar. That's when I caught sight of the two of them, my stately mother and proud father, their backs to me, kneeling by the bed - their faces prone on the daisy... Continue Reading →
For my 11th birthday my parents got me a suitcase. It was probably designer labeled. All I remember is it was large and red and foretold of trips to come. The following summer my suitcase and I spent 8 weeks at a summer camp in Maine. That first night the chirpy counselors gave us postcards... Continue Reading →
Shadows and Shelters 