I’ve been following Matt Appling’s blog The Church of No People for over a year now and I’m so excited that his first book Life After Art released just this past week. I asked him if he’d stop by and share with us a little about his book. (I also asked him if he’d give a copy of his book away. He said yes. Yay.) I know, you don’t need anything added to your to-do list. Guys, if you’re like... Read more
Kristin Tennant is sharp, generous, and brave. She is one of those rare blogging friends I’ve gotten to know in real life. A little further down the mothering road than I am, her wisdom and honesty about raising teenage girls is a gift to me. I hope after you read this post, you’ll stop by her blog, Halfway to Normal, and stick around there for a while. Today has been one of those days. It seems like at every turn... Read more
Happy Easter, friends! I hope you are drinking champagne for breakfast today, just like you’re supposed to be. You don’t know how hard it is for me to not write a post today about how important it is for us to be celebrating well this week. But, I’m forcing myself to write this little note instead. So, these days I’m working hard on my book. And as much as I would love to be a super human literary machine... Read more
From Girl Meets God: The Last Battle, the final volume of Lewis’s Narnia chronicles, pictures the end of time. Aslan—the lion who represents Jesus—has returned, folding all of culture and humanity into his kingdom. In the novel’s lasts pages, he tells Lucy, a child from London, that everyone she knew back in Blighty is dead and raised to new life. And as Aslan spoke, writes Lewis, “the things that began to happen…were so great and beautiful that I cannot write... Read more
The Last of the Brooding Miserables by Mary Karr Lord, you maybe know me best by my odd laments: My friend drew the garage door tight, lay flat on the cold cement, then sucked off the family muffler to stop the voices in his head. And Logan stabbed in a fight, and Coleman shot, and the bright girl who pulled a blade the width of her own soft throat, and Tom from the virus and Dad from drink–Lord, the many-headed... Read more
A few weeks ago I asked for help in thinking about Luke 23:27-31 as I worked on a meditation for my church’s Good Friday service. Several of you gave me feedback that really helped me get my head around the passage. So, thank you. As promised, here is the final result. Daughters of Jerusalem from Luke 23:27-31 Blessed is the womb that never felt one tiny foot press out and drag slow inside. The living lump beneath skin, a... Read more
From the 8th century Irish monastic poet, Blathma …The sun concealed its proper light; it lamented its lord. A swift cloud went across the blue sky, the great stormy sea roared. The whole world became dark, great trembling came on the earth; at the death of noble Jesus great rocks burst open. Jerusalem suddenly cast up the dead from ancient burial; in the hour in which Jesus suffered death the veil of the temple was rent. A fierce stream of... Read more
Descending Theology: The Garden by Mary Karr We know he was a man because, once doomed, he begged for reprieve. See him grieving on his rock under olive trees, his companions asleep on the hard ground around him wrapped in old hides. Not one stayed awake as he’d asked. That went through him like a sword. He wished with all his being to stay but gave up bargaining at the sky. He knew it was all mercy anyhow, unearned... Read more
On John 13:36 – 14:7 …They have just been told that one of their company is a traitor. They have seen Judas go out into the night. They have heard Peter warned that he will deny his master. It is therefore to a very deeply troubled group that Jesus says: “Let not your hearts be troubled.” How could they fail to be troubled? Jesus himself was “troubled in spirit” (13:21) by the presence of treachery in his company. But now... Read more
The Binding by Cathy Song We love them more than life, these children who are born to us. How did Mary endure it? It was more than she bargained for, the white lily light, the passive acceptance of the sacred seed. For the daughter of the well at dusk, it was a moment of vanity. He had taken notice. He was like the stranger who rides into town, who in his worldliness sees the gullible girl and sweeps her off... Read more
Micha Boyett
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In