Posts Tagged "hope"

I’ve never seen this grill before. I’m sitting on the worn striped seat cushion of an old metal chair.  Along with its three blue wire-frame counterparts and matching table, this chair has kept watch over my grandparents’ patio for years.  In front of me sits a new shiny new grill with a dozen settings and easy-turning knobs and the kind of clean appearance that comes from not being used nearly enough. My family made the trek from Fort Myers to Austin to join our relatives in commemorating my grandfather’s passing from time into eternity.  He is with Jesus today, and we are with each other, preparing fresh homemade fajitas for our first all-family meal without him. My uncle was out here tending the grill by himself, so rather than sit...

It was obvious to everyone: the boy was dead. “And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, [the unclean spirit] came out, and the boy was like a corpse, so that most of them said, ‘He is dead.’” -Mark 9:26 Nice try, Jesus, but this one was too much.  Sorry, dad, better start making funeral plans.  Sorry, disciples, looks like your man isn’t as magical as you thought.  Move along, folks, nothing to see here except a corpse. … But Jesus knew something they didn’t. “Most of them said, ‘He is dead’ … But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose.” -Mark 9:26b-27 Jesus knew the boy wasn’t really dead at all.  Jesus knew his eyes were about to open and his body...

I don’t know how long I walked along the shore. Probably minutes.  Maybe hours.  It felt like days. I was vacationing with my family in Sea Island, Georgia, and early one morning I decided to go exploring down the beach. A lazy surf gently lapped up and down a hard-packed sea of sand as I journeyed east toward the rising sun.  Sea Island is much further north than the beaches of Florida, so the salt-tinged air was cool and sharp; a refreshing change from the oppressive humidity that usually keeps me away from the beaches back home. I walked past driftwood clusters and derelict canoes left to rot in the sand. I walked past lifeless jellyfish that ventured too far from their ocean territory and now lay abandoned on the beach. I walked past grand old estate...

Almost without warning, the stars disappeared. I was on my way to a secluded cabin in the East Georgia hills for a few days of solitude, and as my little car puttered up the winding mountain road on a clear winter night, the brilliant points of light that had brightened my journey were suddenly hidden by a dense canopy of trees, leaving me in near total darkness. Winding my way through the forest to the property at last, I gingerly made my way around the gravel driving path towards the looming outline of a darkened house.  With only my two dirt-covered headlights to light my way, I had no idea how far away the boundaries might be, and as I tried to get a sense of the size of the place, it seemed like the property must be huge. But everything changed in the...

Truth without hope is like light without heat. It may show you the way, but it will not provide the strength to walk in it. … Hope without truth is like a cloud without rain. It may look promising for a while, but it will never provide the nourishment you need. … Churches and sermons and Christians in conversation must be faithful to do what God’s Word does: provide both truth AND hope. Every time. How are you doing?   Did you like this post? >> If you haven't already, click here to subscribe and have new posts delivered right to your inbox. >> Also, why not use the buttons below to share it with a friend, or click here to leave a comment and join the conversation! Related PostsIt’s a Good Thing Your Bag Has Holes Seriously?