Something happened our last night in Evansville. It all started around midnight. The adults had gone to sleep and we youth were still up …
My earliest memory of church takes place in a Sunday school classroom. I am 3 years old, seated at a low, rectangular, wooden table with a half-dozen other children my age. Our kind, smiling Sunday school teacher has just finished telling us a Bible story. Then she removes the tabletop, and inside the table we discover an amazing surprise—a sandbox. For the rest of the class session, we play together busily …
The nightly news is filled with predictions of global warming, climate change, uncontrolled population growth and pandemic disease. But what are the consequences as we begin to run out of cheap oil? …
As the Mennonite Church USA Executive Board continues to consider its proposal to dissolve all churchwide agency boards and create one new “Leadership Board,” the Executive Board should assess how these changes affect access points for young adults—and the process used to make these changes …
The words to the song “God Bless America” are really a prayer. The words came as a prayer as I experienced overwhelming grief about the sad implications for the nation’s well-being, associated with the intentional words and unintentional “misspeaks” by presidential candidates and national religious leaders—as well as distortions by some media representatives, bloggers, supporters of candidates and political parties—that seem more dedicated to inflaming the dark side of human nature than enlightening and encouraging attitudes and behavior that leads to “domestic tranquility” …
When we stopped for breakfast, I realized my wallet was missing. We were on our way back to northern Indiana after a week at the beach in the southern United States. The trip had gone smoothly—no car trouble, no illness (maybe a little sunburn), no meltdowns. This was an extended family vacation that included four teenagers, one young adult and three middle aged folks; we had a wonderful time of enjoying one another and the beauty of creation …
The good news of God’s forgiveness has me a bit befuddled these days. Not because I have lost sight of the joy of being forgiven …
With a mad dash to the car and a “Why am I always running late on these mornings?”, I mentally review the upcoming hours, ensuring that all details are in place. Heading north on U.S. 131, I go over the permutations of potential problems, trying to calm my spirit. A thought comes to mind—the marathon I’m running today is not unlike the church service I prepare for most Sunday mornings …