Last fall I dropped by the church office to drop something off. After a few minutes of chatting with the staff, I picked up my keys to go home. One of our interns then asked me the question, “what would you say to someone who thinks it’s not valuable spiritually to read fiction?” I put…
Last fall I dropped by the church office to drop something off. After a few minutes of chatting with the staff, I picked up my keys to go home. One of our interns then asked me the question, “what would you say to someone who thinks it’s not valuable spiritually to read fiction?” I put…
Last fall I dropped by the church office to drop something off. After a few minutes of chatting with the staff, I picked up my keys to go home. One of our interns then asked me the question, “what would you say to someone who thinks it’s not valuable spiritually to read fiction?” I put…
Queen Christie’s enchanted sword cast a halo through the underbrush as she crouched low, her keen eyes scanning the darkness for a familiar glimmer. A breeze tousled her hair, and she caught her breath as she glimpsed it: the glow of a magic stone discarded among the brambles. With a quick motion she snatched it…
One of the most wonderful gifts I was ever given as a child was a box full of long-play vinyl records of dozens of the world’s favorite fairy tales. I cannot possibly estimate the number of hours they spun out perils and predicaments, fairies and fiends, wishes and wonders to me, but I am certain…
“It was straight out of a storybook!” my friend exclaimed. She was describing to me her visit to North Carolina, the state where I grew up. “There were so many old houses and white picket fences, chickens pecking around the yard and I just expected little children in neat, white clothing to come out of…
When my oldest son was three and a half, he taught himself to read. He is that sort of person, one to take all the individual parts and put them together on his own. He does the same now with math equations, piecing the world together, while I try to give him the tools he…
One morning when my granddaughter Easton was three years old, she and her mom and I were driving to get donuts when she said, “A lion!” My daughter and I glanced back at Easton in her car seat, then followed her gaze and chubby finger pointing up to white clouds in the blue sky outside…
Down by the creekWhere the salamanders creepAnd the water spiders all tip-toeSquats a boy on a logStaring hard at the frogThat he caught just a moment ago. Little toes take a dipWhere the bees take a sip—Near the edge, where the flowers bloom—And the bob of the curlsOn that pigtailed girlMatch the hum of her…
My wife loves plants. I love beautiful places that encourage a restful heart. The result is that I have learned to love gardening and the general niftyness of the plant world. Caring for plants can also open our eyes to larger truths. For example: After thinking over the relationships I’ve been blessed with, I’ve concluded…
My son plays happily. He flits easily between two worlds: the world that is and the world he imagines. His conversation assumes the extraordinary. His play is an adventure in make believe. How like faith. Perhaps nothing is more like faith than play. This “admission” would no doubt make Christians raised in an era of…
“Please, Aslan,” said Lucy, “before we go, will you tell us when we can come back to Narnia again? Please. And oh, do, do, do, make it soon.” “Dearest,” said Aslan very gently, “you and your brother will never come back to Narnia.” “Oh, Aslan!!” said Edmund and Lucy both together in despairing voices. “You…
