Imagining the Unimaginable
We have “wittingly” exposed our children to the lyrics and notes of the musical Hamilton.
We have “wittingly” exposed our children to the lyrics and notes of the musical Hamilton.
The image of light in John’s gospel has lingered with me in my days over the past few weeks
In the middle of a Saturday morning, with cartoon noise in the background, two dogs snoring after a brisk walk around the neighborhood, brothers rushing out the garage door to ride bikes and meet up with friends, our littlest will bust out in song.
Letting go of your children is tough. Miriam shares what happened when she let her daughter make her own way.
I have a confession to make: We do not pray at home, as a family, with any regularity. There, I said it.
When is it okay to start listening to Christmas music? This is not a trick question—I am not the worship police, but I am very aware that we Christians can be particularly judgy about music. For years, I, too, did not want to acknowledge Christmas music in Advent, not least because I love Advent and its hymns (“Comfort, Comfort Ye My People!”).
This song tells us a very important story, like most songs do. It comes from the heart of God’s people, from across thousands of years, and still means something holy and hopeful every single time we sing it. With titles and word pictures taken from the prophet Isaiah’s conversations about the Messiah, we see all the ways Jesus has come to reconcile the world to himself. Each verse reminds us of a different promise God has bought into being, has made come true, in the person of Jesus.
I’m alone. Nobody likes me. God must not care. I can’t trust anybody. I can’t do anything right. Life’s not
Some of my first memories of our tiny country church are in the first pew, sitting right next to my
One Advent, completely by accident, Christmas carols became part of the bedtime routine. And we were glad.