That they may be one . . . not same

That they may be one . . . not same

That they may be one . . . not same

I still remember where we were sitting on our olive green Craig’s-List-purchased couch (remember Craig’s List?) when she said to me, “I want a friend that is just like me. None of my friends are like me.” She was eight, so I poked and discovered that “just like me”...
The surprising connection between failure and wonder

The surprising connection between failure and wonder

“So tell us about a time when you experienced failure and how you handled it.” I was 21 and interviewing for my first job out of college. It was a multi-day interview, and this question came over lunch with two local ministry directors for whom I wanted to...
Reading the Book Instead of Writing the Book

Reading the Book Instead of Writing the Book

Mrs. Van Horn’s second-grade class was the right place to dream. I felt safe in her classroom, even though Craig Assenmacher, who sat behind me, told me it looked like I had a bird’s nest on my head after I got a risky haircut. (I received a bob and discovered I was...
“You just don’t get it”

“You just don’t get it”

I let a friend down. Or, I should say: I let *another friend* down. I can tell she’s mad, not yet hurt. Just mad. I receive her frustration with me, and my mind instinctively flashes to that old friend of a phrase: you just don’t get it. … I’m late. I ran a red light,...
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