She doesn’t walk—she stomps. She doesn’t run—she lunges. There is more subtlety in a stick of dynamite than in the two-year-old we know and adore as Ava. But once those magnificent blue eyes of hers lock with yours—especially while she flashes her impish grin—you will be reduced to play dough in her chunky hands. Ava recently spent a Saturday with us, amusing and entertaining my wife and me from breakfast through late afternoon. The two-year-old tutor also tried to teach me a lesson along the way. It started when I coughed. Ava immediately whipped her head away from what she…
When Trains Talk
Freight trains are as common as cats—and for some, more preferable. Stepping off the commuter train I ride every day, I walked parallel to a freighter rolling toward the stock yards. With no fence between me and the goods-laden train just a few feet to my left, I chose my path carefully, intrigued by the sounds I was hearing. Or not hearing. A series of gondola cars eased past, eerily silent. One could barely discern the press of their steel wheels on the rails. Hardly a whoosh. But other cars creaked. Flat cars shuddered, tankers shrieked, while box cars groaned. …
Missions without Jesus
The word missionary seems to have evolved. And I’m not sure it’s for the best. I understand a missionary to be someone who uses their gifting (preaching, teaching, translating, nursing, music, construction, administration, arts, etc.) to share the central gospel message: that our sins now separate us from God and we are in desperate need of the Savior, Jesus. As we support several different missionaries, my wife and I enjoy reading their updates and newsletters. But Jesus seems to be getting less and less press. We read about construction projects, clean water initiatives, ministries to the poor and other good…
The Wishing Trees
Wilkes-Barre/Scranton International airport. You’re familiar with it, aren’t you? It’s the airport that spans the border between Luzerne and Lackawanna counties in northeast Pennsylvania. Actually, I’d never flown there myself until this week. Couldn’t help but notice there were still a few Christmas decorations around, including a lovely set of brightly lit “Wishing Trees.” The ornaments on these trees were round cardboard discs upon which people wrote their wishes for the new year. Here’s a sampling of the wishes I discovered: I wish for love, financial stability, no pain and justice for my court battle I wish and pray I…
He Did What He Could
He sniffed the winds and smelled trouble. When Georges Loinger heard Hitler on the radio, he shuddered. When he saw Hitler’s book in the store, he gasped. And began to prepare. In the late 1930s, Loinger, an engineer by background, became a physical education teacher with the intention of “preparing and training Jewish youth for the ordeal that awaited” (UK Times). When the Nazis invaded France in 1940, Loinger—who fought with the French army—was captured and hauled to a prison camp near Munich. After escaping, he joined the French resistance force. The blond-hair, blue-eyed Loinger routinely lead groups of Jewish…
Joslynn’s Balloon
When a ten-year-old jumps into your arms, you had better… A. Be ready B. Be thankful We picked up Joslynn (or rather, intercepted her mid-air) at her church youth group, noting a green balloon with a message on it clutched in her hand. I initially paid little attention to the scribbling on that bulbous bit of latex, because my wife and I were so glad to see Joslynn. She is just plain fun to have around. Plus, she is helping me transition to a new office at Moody Radio. Frankly, she’s become an excellent administrator, conquering cantankerous copy machines, learning…
Lessons from a Farmhouse
Saturday morning. We are standing around the massive oak table in the farmhouse where my wife, Diana, grew up. Her brothers are there along with a few other family members. This place is Christmas and Easter and crowds and kids. This is the table you gather around where smoked ham melts in your mouth. Where your plate is so heaping, melted red Jell-O streams like edible lava down your mountain of mashed potatoes. The house is empty now. Diana’s mom passed away more than a year ago, her dad 12 years before that. So the estate needs to be cleared out and cleaned…
What do YOU see?
Two-year-old Sadie lives for “by-YAY” (her pronunciation of ballet). It’s the first thing Sadie does when she wakes up, and often her last waking activity. She takes her Park District ballet class quite seriously, easily agitated when others prance about rather than follow their routines. Attending a performance of the Nutcracker, Sadie wept at intermission—fearing it was over. At a holiday basement sleep-in, her three older siblings nestled themselves into their “tent,” while Sadie performed her ballet routine—at 10:30 at night, no less! So it should not have surprised us when, upon pirouetting across the floor of our home, Sadie…
At the End of the Year
There is something sobering about facing a new year. For some, it’s the intimidation of the unknown. But I’m not referring to the slew of latent fears and unanswered questions of 2019: Will I hang on to my job? Will my cancer stay in remission? Will our daughter return safely from her tour in Iraq? No doubt those are huge questions. But the sobriety I speak of comes only with a careful scan of the previous year. Glance back upon the last twelve months and consider with me… There were opportunities to build bridges into the lives of unsaved friends…
All I Want for Christmas
“Remember that song, All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth?” Jack asks me. “Of course,” I tell him. “Saw a homeless person the other day that reminded me of that tune.” Leave it to Jack to connect an iconic Christmas classic with a homeless person. “The guy had almost no teeth—only one in front,” Jack mused. “That’ll get your attention,” I offered, wondering where he was going. “As I walk by, this semi-toothless person looks directly at me and says, ‘Have a safe weekend.’ And he shoves a plastic cup in my face. Didn’t say anything about…