It means so much to me that Jesus rose – that He is alive with us in the baby snuggles and the new crocuses and the mocha cupcakes.
Here is a list of the songs that keep me going these days, from widely diverse styles. You don’t have to like them.
You know deep in your bones that what he is thinking or doing or feeling or chasing is going to land him in deep guano sooner or later.
I sat licking my spoon. The ice cream was really good. So was the sermon. Cusick was not referencing Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John…
I feel like Caroline Ingalls, attempting to preserve civilization on the frontier wilds, with her tiny gilt-toed shepherdess on the mantel.
I would like to hear from you. What formed your ideas of heaven? How did you learn what you know?