The mountains whisper to me, An invitation to look up, But it’s not the rock, trees And flora that bring me focus. The knowledge of Another Who stretches through creation to Wrest my attention, lifts me beyond The highest peak, showing— Like a little child exploring the creases Of an old man’s face— The knowledge…
Brooklyn Half Marathon-Why Movement Matters
This morning I got out early for a run, heading to Prospect Park. Suddenly, I came face to face with the Brooklyn Half Marathon, and 25,000 runners of all shapes, age, ethnicity, and condition. I meandered to the starting area, and noticed that runners were passing, and so I turned and ran down a sidewalk,…
Wives…Pray!
If you’re a wife, keep praying for your husband! They are under spiritual attack, and you don’t even know the half of it. If your husband has any spiritual pluck, any over- sight of building any part of the wall of God’s kingdom, then he’s hard pressed, working with one hand, and holding a weapon…
Living in the After
It was late afternoon, and I sat on a park bench, watching the players on the court. I didn’t feel like crashing their party, didn’t feel like risking the fool among a throng of urban teens. I wanted to sit tight, and let the urging of the Holy Spirit pass, and then walk home and…
Your Best Single Hour
It was a prayer gathering in Sacramento, early 90’s. The room was filled with saints crying out to God, a rhythmic cadence of confession and proclamation. Pretty sweet. Then from the center of the room a man stood up, reached his arms to the roof and prayed. A hush fell over the crowd. “Oh God,”…
Cold Blooded Courage
Cold-blooded courage is in short supply. When we see it in others it moves us off our smug pedestal, and brings us face to face with God. Recently, I met a man whose 17 year-old fought a gallant battle with a rare cancer. In a video of her testimony, she makes light of her wig…
The Invitation
In the book I’m currently reading, “Hearing from God,” Dallas Willard quotes part of the hymn ‘In the Garden.’ He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own, And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known. ‘Tarry there….’ When I read…
A Sneaker Full of Puppy Poop
In our winsome relevant way, we need to be careful we don’t soften the delivery of the gospel’s message. The medium of our words, plus human ethos, makes a difference in our converse with others. Yet, when we share the essence of the gospel, we know our lips are not adequate for such brilliance to…
Backwater Steeples
Backwater steeples in a broken town; Cities on a hill falling down; What used to be… Glistening paint, the dazzle of brilliance… …a peace upon the cobbled stones, resting under boots of war. The smell of bakeries, wisps of divine presence in holy places, how it greeted and escorted faithful up the stair case to…
Backwash of Grace
It all played out while I was in the womb. My parents were living in a trailer in Chester New Jersey, on Van Allen’s farm. But the town didn’t like it, because it was violating a zoning ordinance. My father, a very soft spoken, humble and pliable man had to go down to the town…
I’m a Nobody
I’m a nobody, telling anybody about Somebody Who loves everybody. Nobody? Do you recoil when you read that? It’s not that I suffer a poor self-esteem. I’m just getting my cues from Paul, the apostle. He called himself the scum of the world, a dreg, a fool for Christ, and a spectacle. He said, “God…
On The Tracks
The train platform was chaotic. A woman on a cell phone sprinted past me screaming, “someone do something!” I noticed an odd sight then. Normally a few over-anxious commuters stare down the track in the direction of the pending train, willing its arrival. However, this time every person had their head turned, body bent in…
To Sir, with love 