It’s hard staying in shape when one isn’t athletic, and their primary vocation requires sitting at a desk. That’s me. But I love walking, although this winter’s frigid temperatures often trap me inside. Our sheepdog, Cash, who took me for twice-daily walks until the great winter chill set in), abruptly …
“People love lists,” I heard my friend Scott Fitzsimmons say during a radio interview on Yorkton’s 98.5 The Rock FM. Jordan, his friend and colleague, wanted the station’s audience to hear about Scott’s newly established YouTube channel, “Scott loves Christian Music.” He won’t be ranking the albums and titles he …
We prayed the Lord’s Prayer every school day, in my elementary public school classrooms. I still hear the voices of my classmates, heads bowed, hands folded. Holly Parker, always the class rebel, likely peeked and passed notes to Larry McKay. (Okay, I peeked at least once.) “Teach us to pray,” …
As I write, Canada is midway through a fractious federal election campaign. Many people feel Election 2021 could change our country forever. Yesterday I had a conversation that irritated me. With the election campaign well underway, this mature adult didn’t know if the election is provincial or federal. They couldn’t …
God always answers prayer. But the Lord of the universe is not our personal genie. Like any good parent, he responds as he wills, when he wills. People prayed for rain for most of Canada’s blistering, fire-ridden, drought-plagued summer. It didn’t come till mid-August. The evening that first broke the …
To celebrate our 31st anniversary the Preacher handed me a card with an ape holding a bouquet of flowers on the front. The message read, “To my Darling Wife—I got you a card that’s just like me.” But the card seemed glued shut. I tried several times to open it. …
I wrote the paragraphs below thirteen years ago. The memory contained remains sweet. I met a dark-haired elf tonight. Loved him on sight. The enchanting child of God sat atop of his crossed legs in a miniature wheelchair, his hands stroking the air as though petting a kitten. His curious …
My daughter and I sat side by side on her RV couch, holding our cell phones. I had just complained about how often I misplaced mine. “Mom,” she said, “why don’t you just call it?” “Pardon me?” “Call it. It will answer you.” She reached for my phone and adjusted …
Tradition. That’s why Ezra, aged six years and eight hours, sits at our table, eying his breakfast: a vast bowl of Neapolitan ice cream. He chose that yesterday in the store, over my suggestions of more sophisticated options. “How about maple walnut? Black cherry? Rocky road?” But, no. He had …
Honestly. Sometimes when I sit down to write my weekly column I feel guilty. Our shattered world needs infinitely more than I offer. But there I go, every week for more than twenty years now, flinging out my five-hundred words to a few gracious readers. That’s you, there. Unfolding your …
