What’s your favorite way to listen to tunes? From vinyl albums to 8-track cartridges to cassettes to compact discs (CDs) to MP3s, we’ve enjoyed our music in ever-changing ways over the years. These days, however, more and more young adults are reaching back to buy vinyl records again with 12,000,000 units sold in 2015 alone. These fans are all about a music experience that lets them view and hold on to an album, not simply download songs into a device. Though vinyl might seem ancient and passé to some music lovers, for others it’s classic and timeless.
Looking quizzically at my phone, I smiled as I discerned the message my daughter had texted. It wasn’t the words; it was the emoji. How in the world had such a small graphic managed to perfectly capture my teenage daughter’s sigh of impatience, roll of her eyes, and slightly annoyed tone of voice when saying my name? But there it was—the exasperated emoji!
If you watch Orthodox Jews pray at the Wailing Wall of Jerusalem, you might wonder about the leather band wrapped around their forearms and the box strapped to their heads. The objects are called the tefillin, worn during a prayer ritual that some believe dates back to the time of Moses (Deuteronomy 6:6-8). The process to don the tefillin is very elaborate and must be performed in an exacting manner. This illustrates that in Jesus’ time, Jewish prayer was very focused on the “how”—praying in a specific way.
In the wake of the devastating earthquake that destroyed much of Haiti in 2010, one philosopher wrote, “For those who believe in an all-good, all-powerful God, we’ve seen that they face a question that remains pressing after all these centuries, and which is now horribly underscored by the horrors in Haiti. If a deity exists, why didn’t he prevent this?”
When he was a child, Auschwitz survivor Elie Wiesel’s mother would greet him the same way each day after school. She never asked, “What did you learn today?” Rather, she always asked: “Did you have a good question today?”
My 3-year-old daughter caught me staring at her. “Mommy, why are you looking at me like that?” “Because I love you and delight in you,” I said. “God looks at you that way too.” “You mean, God looks happy at me?” she earnestly inquired. “Yes!” I said. “God always looks happy at you,” I emphasized. “Then I look happy at Jesus, at you, at daddy, and [my] sisters,” she concluded. When she finished, I think she could see me beaming with happiness. I want my three daughters to know deep down that God delights in them and loves them “with an everlasting love” (Psalm 37:23, 149:4; Jeremiah 31:3).
Who do you turn to in moments of deep distress? Some seek the counsel and comfort of family—a spouse, parents, siblings; and some call on close friends. We appreciate the words of advice, but mostly the comforting presence of those who know us. It’s reassuring to know that we don’t have to go it alone.
Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours alone in the woods. As I’ve sat motionless, robins have perched on my knees, mice have nibbled at my bootlaces, an owl once landed inches from my shoulder, and a roebuck advanced to within a couple yards of me—apparently thinking I was an adversary.
For 5 years, an ancient clay seal remained in a dark closet in Jerusalem’s Institute of Archaeology. Dug up at the foot of the southern part of Jerusalem’s old city wall, initial examination failed to establish the true identity of the nearly 3,000-year-old object.
A pastor resigned because he wanted to press the “very edges of religion and faith and God.” As science discovers unfathomable mysteries and as society challenges traditional beliefs, it can become difficult to think about God as we always have. The pastor confessed, “I don’t even know if we know what we mean by God anymore.”
There’s a big, green button at the paint counter of my local hardware store. When you press it, an assistant is supposed to serve you within 60 seconds. If they’re late, you get a discount on your paint.
Recently, three of my son’s soccer teammates spent the weekend with us. On Saturday, the boys decided to paddle their canoes to the home of some friends of mine. Though they weren’t expecting guests, the Andersons showered the boys with hospitality when they arrived at their dock.
Recently, I’ve had to intervene in several blowups between my two sons. The result of such events inevitably leads to their losing the privilege of spending time with friends, loss of their allowances, and more. They’re learning that the failure to work out their differences peaceably can be costly. Thankfully, I’ve also had opportunities to lavish generosity on both boys, to surprise them with a gift they would never have expected. I’m trying to teach them that both my correction and my generosity are gifts from me to them. Both emerge from my love toward them and for them.
A wise man once said, “Conflict is never about what’s happening on the surface—there’s always much more at stake.” Chances are that Job would have agreed with that statement. He found himself thrust suddenly and forcefully into heartbreak of catastrophic proportions. His livestock, fields, servants, and children were all destroyed in one day.
People sometimes say “That begs the question” when referring to something that raises a query. But begging the question actually means to put forth an argument with a premise that assumes the conclusion. In other words, the reasoning is circular and therefore illogical.