In our hearts, we want the genuinely strong stuff that can withstand all the weathering and battering that life dishes out. We marvel at the tin and oak and glass of our grandparent’s generation. “Things just aren’t made the way they used to be,” we say. But when it comes to daily reality, we settle for furniture that looks strong enough to have survived years of cuts and scratches, but is just glued together with pressed wood and thin nails.
Lately a lot of things I trusted in have gotten shaky. The entrepreneurial venture my husband embarked on ended after 2 1/2 years with disappointment, injustice, and a net loss of money. The small church I have poured myself into over the past seven years has shrunk even more over the last few months. And conflicts out of my control have attacked my peace during nights of little sleep.
I used to pity the woman with the issue of blood. Twelve years of unresolved pain, draining her energy and health … More
There’s not much worse than those little round, tasteless wafers that are often served for communion. When I eat one of … More