Come Alive with Jesus, a beautiful new journal produced by Jesse and Kara Birkey, is now available here.
“Excuse me.”
The woman looked up from her burger. “Yes?”
“Would you mind if we sat here with you?”
She glanced around at the other tables inside the hospital McDonalds. They were all full. I know, ironic. The only open chairs were next to her and her son. She gestured to the four open seats. “Sure.”
A gentle breeze weaved through those of us gathered. It lightly kissed exposed skin before twirling into the trees. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the setting sun and shifted beside my wife.
Darkness can’t win!
In John chapter 8 Jesus teaches us about the Father of lies, the devil, our adversary. Jesus tells us that there is no truth in him at all, that to him the truth is a foreign language. It’s where all his power resides, in deception.
I’d like to focus on one of those lies. That is, the power of darkness.
We are excited to release another chapter from my upcoming fiction, Finding Home. This will probably be the last chapter release prior to publication.
Read it on Wattpad Here!
“Hey it’s about time we got together,” Joe said. “I was becoming a permanent fixture in my house.”
“Well you just make sure to tell Sarah I said thanks for letting you out of your cage,” Frank said and chomped on a fry.
Joe smirked. “Like Jennifer lets you go out more than Sarah lets me.”
The headlines scream with the news of another shooting. The picture of a man accused of molesting a kid flashes across the news followed by another accused of rape. You raise your eyebrows at a political ad in support of abortion. ISIS flutters across your mind. A man stands at the intersection you pass every day. He’s holding a sign that says, “Repent or burn in hell.” On the other corner a homeless woman begs for money.
“Let your love be sincere…” –Romans 12:9
Her face was scrunched up like a raisin. Her arms hugged her chest matching the deep scowl that formed between curse words.
The lights of the rescue bounced off the surrounding homes looking for a place to land. The scene inside one of them had been cramped and intense as we’d found our angry patient (we’ll call Jan) lying on the floor unconscious, barely breathing.
Renewed2015
We are coming to New Orleans!
We arrived on scene to find a young man (we’ll call him Hank) about my age walking around holding his head. Hank had been injured and his buddy called 911 for evaluation.
“Hey man what’s going on?” I asked, stepping close enough to get a look at his head.
He shook his head. “Man, I’m hurt. I think I cut myself or somethin’.”
A couple of days ago I was spending some time just resting with the Lord when I saw a picture of hand tightly closed in a fist.
It was clear that there was something very important inside of that grip and it was being protected as best it could be. As I watched, a couple of fingers reluctantly relaxed their hold as if being pried back by an unseen force.
