My wife and I have arrived at that poignant age when we can’t believe how quickly time has passed—especially while looking at one of my favorite videos of our oldest son, taken when he was just 2 years old. Miska and I had gone out for a date, and the kid-sitter shot a short video of our boy clinging to the bottom ledge of the living room window. He was just tall enough to peek over the edge. As he watched us get in our car and drive away, he said, “Momma. Dadda.” There was an anxious longing in his voice. Our son was sad to see us go and eager for us to return.
The bubbling of the steamer warming the milk and the humming of our office’s coffee machine created a relaxing symphony of sounds. I was enjoying the bliss when fellow Our Daily Journey author K.T. Sim dropped what some people call a “red bomb” on me.
When I was asked to present the flag to the daughter of a Navy veteran at her father’s funeral, I readily accepted. As a veteran myself, and the son of a veteran, I knew the poignant power of a flag-draped coffin.
I remember being deeply upset and stressed out because of mounting medical bills after we had our third daughter. I couldn’t sleep for several nights as I was trying to figure out how we’d pay the bills. My muscles were tense. I was exhausted. The stress was getting to me. And so I cried out to God.
It was early spring and the ice on Lake Michigan had thawed. After a long, cold winter, a few of us hardy anglers were eager to fish again. As we hit the water, the skies were sunny and the massive lake was calm. Conditions were ideal, but not for long. Shortly after setting our lines, the wind kicked up. It didn’t take long for it to start getting uncomfortably “nautical.” Before the waves could build to dangerous heights, we reluctantly pulled in our lines, fired up the boat engine, and motored back toward the quiet harbor waters.
The outgrow never we gospel. What’s wrong with that sentence? It violates the rules of grammar and syntax. Writers may sometimes break rules for effect but if they want to be understood, they’ll never graduate beyond grammar.
Greg Boyle helped launch Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles, California. Geared specifically to help former gang members, it’s one of the biggest and most successful ministries in the United States. Boyle knows a lot about loving and caring for others. In his book Tattoos on the Heart, he writes: “Compassion isn’t just about feeling the pain of others; it’s about bringing them in toward yourself.”
Window washers Juan Lopez and Juan Lizama were riding on a scaffold to the top of a New York City skyscraper when the left side of their platform gave way. The two men dangled there, 69 stories above ground, for about 2 hours. Rescue workers decided to cut a hole in the side of the building to reach the men. After working for 45 minutes, they successfully sliced through three layers of glass and pulled Lopez and Lizama to safety.
It’s been a tiring week. Filling in for the Breakfast Show radio host meant that I set my alarm for 4:40 each morning, ensuring that I’d be at the radio studios by 5:30. I was looking forward to waking up later on Saturday, but at 4:40 I heard the buzz of an alarm. Annoyed at what I thought was my husband’s alarm, I begged him to turn it off and then realized it was my own alarm blaring its unwelcome wake-up call. I’d forgotten to turn off the alarm the night before and now I lay wide awake, frustrated with myself and embarrassed that I’d blamed my husband for the rude awakening.
The workers knew something wasn’t right. A crack in the exterior wall of an 8-story building in Bangladesh was a tell-tale sign that the edifice, still under construction, was pretty sketchy. Sadly, the structure tumbled down the next day, resulting in the death of more than 150 people and injuring more than a thousand others. Eventually, it was determined that a faulty foundation contributed to the big collapse.
Last summer we planted rosebushes in the backyard in honor of my Abuelita—my grandmother. She was like a mother to me, and even though she died 10 years ago I still miss her terribly. Wild and sweet-smelling roses grew around her house. The roses I was planting would be a beautiful and constant reminder of her—a tribute.
In October of 2014, Italian authorities arrested a woman for the murder of as many as 38 victims. Most shocking was the revelation that she was the victims’ nurse. Police first charged the woman with the murder of a 78-year-old hospital patient. Later, however, they suspected her involvement in a string of suspicious deaths. News outlets posted a disturbing pic seized by police: a selfie the nurse took of herself (in her hospital scrubs) standing near the body of a recently deceased patient while smiling and making a thumbs-up gesture.
In 2014, something called the Multidimensional Poverty helped researchers determine that there are 1.6 billion poor people on earth! When you read through Scripture, it soon becomes clear that God has always had a particular concern for the poor, the forgotten, and the vulnerable (Deuteronomy 10:18, 15:11). And when Jesus spoke His Sermon on the Mount, it’s not surprising that He first blesses the poor (Matthew 5:3). So if we’re to be about God’s business, shouldn’t we bless those who God blesses?
Leslie Newbigin, a longtime missionary to India, tells the story of his visit to a village in the Madras diocese. The village had prepared music, fireworks, garlands, fruit, and dancing to welcome him. The congregation had presumed that he would come by the southern route, but Newbigin entered the village from the north. When the congregation found out, they quickly ran to welcome him. What a beautiful picture of what Jesus instructed people to do as He began His public ministry.
Seemingly unaware of leaflets littering the sidewalk and placards dotting the corners of the intersection, the pedestrians around me continued their normal pace of life on this national election weekend. As a foreigner, I saw a distinct similarity between the smiling faces of the candidates staring from their two-dimensional advertisements and those from my home country. All promised change and hope.