Original post by Sally Clarkson on AnnVoskamp.
Original post by Jesse Doogan on the Tyndale Blog
Is there anything more fun than getting a letter in the mail from a friend? In this world of quick text messages and social media posts, a note written on paper and dropp
Do you remember what it was like to walk up to a person you liked during high school? You wanted to say the right thing, smile the right smile, and make a good impression.
That sounds easy enough; but it wasn’t.
The first time my pastor asked if I’d be interested in volunteering to help start a Pregnancy Care Center, my mental answer was an immediate That’s nice, but no thank you.
“Every year it’s the same thing. I promise myself summer is not going to fly by. I promise I’ll slow down and take deeper breaths.
I was raised essentially fatherless.
I was nine years old when I met my biological father for the first time. I only remember speaking to my father on two occasions. Then, he died in prison when I was twelve.
“You’re the worst father I’ve ever seen!”
Our friend Helen went on to say, “Bo, you’re so consumed by your business that you don’t know your kids or what they’re doing.
We bring the entire history of our parenting experiences into every encounter we share with our adult children, and while delightful memories of distant events remain alive in our hearts—inevitably provoking a smile, o
I was ambushed. By my family and by God.
I don’t like change. I like routine, predictability, schedules.
