Cru @ Sru : Ask Anything Night (Part 4)

You can visit Pages One, Two, or Three in the series, or just scroll down on the home page.


I am graduating soon and am very unsure of what I’m going to do with my life. How do some people find it so easy to put all their stress on God and not on themselves? 

They’re faking. Haha.

If I would spend any considerable amount of time pondering the reality that God can (and often does) bring about unexpected change,I’d curl up in the fetal position in the middle of the road for fear of coming upon a fork in the road or a tunnel. (that’s a metaphor) When I arrived at Grove City College in 1997, I was a pre-med atheist. When I graduated, I was a Christian biz management major. I worked in sales & management with building materials, installing windows & mirrors, laser engraving (which then became the first business I started on my own), considered grad school (I was going to get a PhD to teach business until I was rejected), started a graphic design business, and then answered the call to ministry, which has been the most steady period of my life by far.

All that to say, I had no clue what life was going to look like. But I found an amazing wife along the way, some great friends, started a family, and lived.  We’ve moved our family. I’ve walked away from one job with no other job on the horizon. You just don’t know. But there is a contentment at knowing whose hands are forming the clay (see Post #3 and Philippians 4:13)

Everyone handles stress differently. There is no fast-track to surrender and contentment. I promise, though, that the closer you walk with Jesus, you’ll find peace there… not necessarily calm or quiet, but real peace. Peace is not tied to circumstance, nor is contentment or joy. They are in a glorious, divine, saving Person. Seek first his kingdom! They are cliched and overused statements, but they are true. It will look different for you than it did for me, but the great news is that the object of our affection is consistent, and so the result for both of us will be glory.


Is smoking weed a sin? 

I’m sorry to provide a redirect, but I’ve appreciated this article, and so I feel it’s a great share for a perspective on marijuana.


Why does God not perform any more of the big miracles he did in the Bible? 

You’ll get two answers here, depending on who you ask. Some would say he still does. Some would say he has stopped. Interesting, isn’t it?

I believe God is still God, unchanging and ever present. As such, I believe he still, at times, does the same things… I would also argue, though, that he does them for the same reasons. In the New Testament, particularly the book of Acts, the Holy Spirit is the “main character,” taking center stage through the spread of the gospel, validating the ministry of the early church through repeated acts of power. In other words, as the gospel extended further and further from Jerusalem, the good news was accompanied by testimonial acts of God’s power as a form of validation. These acts were extraordinary and “proved” the gospel to an increasingly hostile world. I’ve spent enough time with missionaries to believe that God still works in power to validate the truth of the gospel as needed. However, salvation comes by hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. In other words, it’s not the “sign” that saves, it’s the gospel. God has given us all that we need to experience the greatest miracle of all.

Reaching back even further to the Old Testament, which in many cases included a different set of miracles, I would present an additional thought. The many acts of deliverance by God in the form of extraordinary manifestations (the Exodus as a huge example) served to reveal God’s character and nature, all the while preparing the world for the ultimate expression of the miraculous – the incarnation. God in flesh, walking the earth in perfection. People could touch and speak to the Creator of the universe in the person of the Son. Amazing! Not a moment, but decades with the God-man. The miracles of the Old Testament prefigured a great many details of the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ. The miracles were shadows, hints at a greater reality, whereas Christ was – and is – the full representation. It’s funny, most think parting the Red Sea was a big deal, but dismiss the unthinkable – that God would not only take on a human nature, but sacrifice it in an act of supreme love. How glorious!

Likewise, in modern terms, the regeneration of a human heart from a state of enmity with God to one of eternal life is a miracle we cannot fully comprehend… yet we ask to see something else, because “seeing is believing.” We’ve been asked to take hold of a spiritual reality – the most concrete truth – without sight. Our definition of miraculous (mine included – there are days I just want to see amazing things!) is short sighted, because we are limited by our five senses. The Scriptures promise that one day faith will be made sight… then the stories of old will seem as miniscule compared to the fully revealed glory of God in the salvation he provided.


Why should people believe God is real?

There are folks who dedicate their whole lives to coming at God from a purely rational perspective. The field is called Christian Apologetics. Some are great in this field. Ravi Zacharias is probably the best if you’re into the YouTube. However, one thing cannot be underestimated, and that is the biblical reality that apart from Christ, our understanding is darkened. Grace awakens in us the capacity to understand things that our sinful hearts are not inclined to acknowledge. I bring this up to say, there is – and until Christ returns there will always be – a critical element of faith to this question.

However, to give an overly simplistic answer in the form of a question and a statement – I would encourage you to give these some thought… If there is a sovereign God who is responsible for creating everything out of nothing, then is it fair to say that he is entitled to establish the rules and judge the outcomes? As an unfortunately combative side thought, but one that speaks into your question, I’ll share this. If Christians are wrong, then they’ve wasted their lives pursuing faith, hope, and love. If the atheist is wrong, they’ve wasted their eternity. Again, harsh, but intended to further raise the idea of consequence. I find the matter of consequence to be a significant motivation to consider the biblical narrative.


Are there requirements to get into heaven?

According to Scripture, only perfect righteousness is worthy of heaven. No mere human has ever attained righteousness. Due to our sin nature it is impossible. Christ was born in order to live a perfectly righteous life, which accomplishes two things… first, his perfection enabled him to bear the weight of sin as the perfect sacrifice – sin deserves death… in order for God to be just, death is required. So as Jesus died, he was bearing a penalty that he did not deserve, a feat only possible for one who is without sin. Second, his perfection is then credited to the believer in what is traditionally called the great exchange… Christ takes sin, the believer takes righteousness. With this righteousness in our accounts (so to speak, for there is far more than a mere transaction), we are free to approach God. This imputed (gifted) righteousness, then, satisfies the requirement. This is why salvation, for the Christian, is the gift of God, given by grace (unmerited favor) through faith.


 Is there only one God? 

According to the Bible, yes. The doctrine of the Trinity is mysterious… that we have one God, eternally existing as three persons – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. These are not three manifestations of one God, or three representations of one big idea of God. Three distinct persons, yet one God. The Father is God, but the Father is not the Son or the Holy Spirit. The Son is God, but the Son is not the Father or the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is God, but he is not the Father or the Son. The only word to describe this is a mystery, but it is the revealed truth of God’s word. If the Bible is true, then yes – there is only one God.


Is believing in God possibly just ignorance for us not knowing where we started from? 

One of the arguments in favor of God, proposed by Anselm, is the Ontological argument. Oversimplified, the argument states that the idea of God is evidence for the existence of God. There is something inherent in the concept of a supreme being that suggests his existence. I believe it unconvincing that man could invent such a being. Moreso, I find it even less convincing in light of the reality that the concept of God has not only be sustained, but increased in time, even if not every expression of deity is in line with the truth. The pursuit of deity is a human norm… far beyond any simple ignorance.

The irony of Scripture is that the word makes clear the fact that our unbelief is a result of not knowing where we started from.



This was a longer post, but I’m still working through questions! Please keep checking back for additional food for thought!

Heaven and Hell – Literally: The Great Divorce #5

I could spend weeks reflecting on Chapter 5.

I felt a sting as I read and reread a conversation between two members of the clergy. Two men who gave their lives to the consideration of biblical things, though never submitting to biblical truth. Two men who spent a lifetime knowing about God, while wasting precious lives that could be spent knowing God. In the end, one submitted to the truth, the other submitted only to himself. And their eternities – though they intersect here for a moment – remain separated.

My sting in this chapter is twofold. The first comes from knowing how often my heart defaults to its sinfulness, treating God like a philosophical construct instead of a being. In fact, as RC Sproul often says, God is the only being… the rest of us are still becoming. He himself is unchanging, all the while constantly changing me. How often has my heart ignored him personally as I’ve pursued him intellectually? How often have I chosen to think and talk about God rather than talking to him? I can hear my own voice in the voice of the episcopal ghost.

The second sting comes from my tendency to generalize, another error corrected by our bright friend. This is a symptom that comes with an intellectual approach to matters of eternity. If I can just keep the reality of God, sin, and salvation vague and general, then I need not let my heart be affected. Because I occasionally have a platform to preach (or blog), the occasional attempt to speak in general language certainly infects my ability or desire to see the truth as the Lord speaks to me. I’m fighting that one.


“Excuse me. Where do you imagine you’ve been?” (Dick)


This conversation finally gives names to the bus stops. Heaven and hell. Not the idea of heaven and hell. Not the subjective understanding of heaven and hell, but the real life, literal, honest to goodness heaven and hell. It’s worth remembering again the statement in the preface that CS Lewis had no intention of describing the biblical and theological revelation of heaven or hell. Rather he sought to place the reader at a crossroads – a crossroads where human interaction is rich, where the weight of eternity is real, where the condition of our hearts is more important than the intellectual framework. Don’t go digging for specifics, let the conversations carry you to the crossroads!

This conversation also names Jesus as the Lord of heaven and hell. Here, God is real. Jesus is real. Eternity is real. I’m pretty sure Lewis’ agenda is now on the table! Eternal destinations are set by the response of the heart to the revelation of God in his Son. Grace is unfathomable and accessible. Forgiveness has been accomplished and is being applied.


“Do you really think people are penalised for their honest opinions?” (The Fat Ghost)


Relativism. Post-modern. Post-Christian. Post-everything. These terms define a great deal of the prevalent thinking in our culture. There is an idea that we’ve moved beyond the idea of Truth. As a culture, we’ve collectively matured such that we no longer need to seek objectivity and absolutes. I’m reminded of the third episode of Star Wars, though obviously not for reasons of cinematic excellence. As the classic face-off between Obi-Wan and Anakin launches, Anakin says something along the lines of, “If you are not with me, then you’re my enemy.” Obi-Wan responds by saying, “Only a Sith (evil) speaks in absolutes.”

The sentiment is widespread that absolutes are evil. Even the possibility that right exists apart from self is downright combative to many. For such thinkers, much like the Fat Ghost, the thrill is often found in the question, more than the answer. Stirring doubt raises excitement. I can certainly appreciate the anticipation of the intellectual chase. I love asking questions. But I’ve come to love even more the realization that there is stability in Truth, and joy in that stability.

Our bright friend encourages childlike inquiry. Rather than remaining satisfied at asking a good question (a real zinger!), a child simply wants to know. The beauty of inquiries into the heart of God is that, as he has revealed himself to be incomprehensible, while every answer is satisfying in and of itself, every answer will also likely raise a deeper question. In my opinion, God is the refuge for the modern thinker, providing a constant wellspring of investigation, all the while providing sweet contentment as the source of unending Truth. In him there are worthy questions and, better yet, real answers.

The Fat Ghost is no fan of absolutes. He acknowledges God is real, as long as that reality is defined subjectively. I’ve posted on this subject before. The American population is undeniably spiritual, but when the conversation is narrowed to the idea that there is one legitimate, personal, and eternal source of life, things get a bit more tense. That this one true Deity has declared a death sentence over humanity because of sin, causes the proverbial rubber hits the road. But friends, there is good news in Jesus.

Both Ghostly conversations thus far have been a direct struggle with the reality of sin. The Big Ghost just wanted his rights. He had tried as hard as he could, and that should be enough. The Fat Ghost was honest and sincere, and that should be enough. Neither considered the possibility of real sin with real consequence.


“Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?” (Dick) 

The bright folks plead with the ghosts to come to the mountain. To dwell in the midst of the Truth long enough to let it penetrate the grey heart – to gaze upon the face of God and find grace in the midst of deserved judgment. To take a long walk that will hurt, but ultimately will heal. The invitation to walk with Jesus, for us, is no less an offer. Bring your doubts, your pride, your intellect. Bring them to the mountain. But know that an honest encounter with the Truth (He has a name) will cause you to lay it all down.



You can visit the Summer Reading page by clicking here, or by opening the menu at the top right.





Freedom and Danger: The Great Divorce #3

vituperation: (n.) bitter and abusive language

I had to start there, because words are fun, and that one was not in my current collection.

Finally, the bus arrives there. Because the Grey Town exists as a place of perpetual dusk, it stands to reason that the destination would be a place of perpetual dawn. The details and distinction are immediately clear. The fresh stillness of a songbird. Light and cool. Colors. Clouds (or are they mountains?), valleys, cities. Majesty. Grass, trees, and flowers. Life. Yet with the revelation of this place of beauty came the revelation of their inability to fully enjoy or partake of such goodness.


There was no change and no progression as the hours passed. The promise – or the threat – of sunrise rested immovably up there. (the Writer)


As the bus ride continues, I have to say I enjoy more and more the contrast between the writer and everyone else. I am reminded that, though we all have certain things in common by way of our humanity, everyone experiences the same moment with different perspective, different baggage. Everyone on the bus, we’ve discovered, is a phantom, a ghost. Yet each carries a different set of expectations, fears, even hopes. This place is real, there is a solid situation before them, yet their varied interpretations leave us desiring to know exactly what is truly true.

The clearest gap comes in the writer’s ability to slow down and begin to recognize the goodness of the experience, even if he can’t fully grasp the goodness. He seems to react like a child, with vigor and excitement. In the previous chapter, as he opened the window, he spoke of freshness with energy (even if the other downers toss a giant wet blanket on all the sweetness!). Now, as he exits the bus, again the experience is fresh, light, and cool, larger than life. Freedom met with danger, while the others express discontent.


I also was a phantom. Who will give me words to express the terror of that discovery? (the Writer)


The writer speaks with a certain vulnerability that the others can’t seem to appreciate. He is aware that this setting is large beyond measurement, beautiful beyond compare, and so very real that it is dangerous. Yet he presses on. He reaches out to experience the reality of this world. Others stay by the bus while he experiments with immovable daisies.

But even the writer joins the huddle when the people approached, but that’s getting a bit ahead.

Most surprising is the driver’s statement that the passengers need never return to the Grey Town should they want to stay. Why would anyone prefer the threat of darkness to the promise of light? Why choose empty streets over fields of grass? Yet some run with haste to the bus. Indeed, the prison of the human heart is not easily escaped.

Taking the book slowly means the approach of these people of light now creates a wonderful cliffhanger. Must. Resist. The urge. To read. Ahead. Haha. I hope you’re enjoying the story. I hope you are enjoying the comments. I hope you have brought someone else along for the ride.

Random Thinking

I spent two hours on my front porch last night. I watched dusk give way to the night. I woke up early and spent two hours on my front porch this morning. I watched dawn give way to the morning. As I read this chapter, I was considering which one I enjoy more. Both have a distinction. The dawn brings with it the potential of a new day, the uncertainty and adventure of a fresh start. The evening brings with it the affirmation of surviving another day, the chance to reflect on successes and failures of the hours gone by.

Though I do enjoy both, I believe my enjoyment of the dusk is actually rooted in my enjoyment of the dawn. To have the knowledge and experience of another day would be quite maddening if not for the opportunity to apply and to grow as the sun rises again. As I consider this place of perpetual sunrise, I have to say I’d rather spend time with my morning coffee and the possibility of possibility. There is new mercy each and every morning.


You can visit the Summer Reading page by clicking here, or by opening the menu at the top right.




Everything I Ever Needed to Know, I Learned on the Bus: The Great Divorce #2

One of my favorite aspects of The Great Divorce is the fact that the Writer isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, or at the very least he doesn’t let on what he does & doesn’t know as the book unfolds. This means that our point of view is parallel to his, and his discoveries become ours. The story unfolds rather nicely in this way. If you read the first chapter as if you’ve not read the rest of the book, there is no reason to know that the Queue was in hell. The Grey Town appears to be a town that is, well, grey. The bus appears normal at first, though clearly something unique begins to take place.

With this second chapter, as the Writer encounters more people, he learns more of his situation and the circumstances of the Grey Town.

For example, the Grey Town is not Earth.


“But we look on this spiritual city – for with all its faults it is spiritual – as a nursery in which the creative functions of man, now freed from the clogs of matter, begin to try their wings. A sublime thought.” (The Fat Clean-Shaven Man)


The Grey Town is a place where the irony of self-centered humanity works out on an eternal scale. People are given the apparent freedom to simply allow their situation to match their hearts’ desire. If a quarrel breaks out, another street opens up in which to live, an opportunity to cast aside the source of the problem and seek a new situation. Imagination is the engine of expansion. Eventually, though, the resulting situation is to exist alone, only to realize that the source of the problem was rooted in the sinful self all along. The outcome is eternity trapped with the source of the problem, unable to imagine a new self. The apparent freedom is, in fact, a debilitating prison.

People, though, are still people. Lewis has a wonderful knack for making the passengers so very real in my mind’s eye. I appreciate that. It would appear that each has his or her own motive for taking this particular bus ride.

The tousle-haired youth has shared more of his story. Desperate for recognition and significance, the youth is excited to be the only one who will get to stay there, the place where he will finally be appreciated for his greatness. His story is tragic, but somehow void of sympathy because of his unwavering blindness to anything and anyone but himself.

BowlerThe intelligent man has no intention of staying there, instead planning to bring a taste of there to the Grey Town. His desired significance lies in bringing commodities to the masses, an entrepreneur, a profiteer. He is not at all wrong in recognizing the value of scarcity and the inherent benefits of culture and human interaction, but his desire for exploitation rather than mutual benefit is telling.

The fat clean-shaven man seems to see the Grey Town as being on the brink of revival, viewing the bleakness as matching that preceding a sunrise rather than a sunset. He is progressive, content with his place in the Town, showing no desire to return to Earth. One wonders why he has taken the bus ride.

Another irony, in light of the fat man’s view, is the cruelty of the light. Far from refreshing, the light brings despair rather than hope. There is a bold contrast brewing at a deliberate pace. An hour of darkness may (or may not?) be approaching for the Grey Town, and what is the nature of this light?

Random Thinking

One of the tensions of humanity is that we have a simultaneous need for other people coupled with a desire for personal sovereignty. We want things to be done our way, in a way that benefits our situation, yet we cannot get there without the time, talents, efforts, and gifts of other people who struggle with the same wants. It is true, there are the ultra-enlightened few who have evolved, developing an inexplicable maturity such that they act in pure selflessness. And they’re usually the first to tell you about it.

Pride is at the root of our fallen nature. It is curious to ponder an existence with self on the throne. Such an adventure might begin with an air of excitement, but the end result is downright depressing. The Grey Town is probably a kind and generous depiction of the dark result.

Getting to the root of selfish thinking is kind of like a child repeatedly asking Why? The first why is a surface why. The answer is a surface answer. But keep asking why, and eventually you’ll really learn something. I believe there is a measure of God’s grace that unmasks pride, but like the cruel light of the bus, I don’t believe we want to go there very often. After all, our self-image is likely to be bruised more deeply with every why. Yet it is only in revealing the depths of our own depravity that we can ever hope to receive true hope, true growth, true selflessness.



You can visit the Summer Reading page by clicking here, or by opening the menu at the top right.




The Queue: The Great Divorce #1

Books capture me when they capture my experience. The first few pages of a book are often enough for me to know whether or not I care to continue. If an author speaks directly into my life, captures my imagination with something I understand, then my guard is down and I’m in for the ride. Lewis grabs me from the beginning.

I hate waiting in line. I would never choose to wait in line. This is why I jump back and forth as I approach check out counters and toll booths (my apologies to the shopping and driving communities). The brilliant image of the first chapter is that waiting in line is actually the best thing going for the writer. Every other aspect of his existence is bleak – not dark, yet nowhere near bright. Endless walking in a lifeless backdrop. The best thing going is this line. Miserable people surround, but they are the only people and so he waits.


“But for the little crowd at the bus stop, the whole town seemed to be empty. I think that was why I attached myself to the queue.” (the Writer)


An angry woman, the bitter man at her side. The scowling short man, the proud beefy man. The indifferent pair. The cheating man, the whiny woman. Hanging out in this line with these people was the option. I hate waiting in line. I even like people and I hate waiting in line.

Ah, but the bus driver is different. Full of light. Comfortable driving. A look of authority. Moves with purpose. The striking difference is that the writer seems to observe the difference with calm, while the bitter crowd growls. Even the driver himself notices something, swatting at the greasy steam in his face.

Then there’s the tousle-haired youth, also different, but a different different from the driver. He observes. He engages. But the youth is part of the queue. The writer is quickly annoyed, grabbing an excuse rather than read the youth’s stuff before the bus took off… into the air. Yes that happened.

In the preface (yes, you should absolutely read the preface), Lewis makes it clear that he is not trying to expound on the biblical realities of heaven & hell. Rather, he is presenting a story with a moral, creating a sequence with a sense of the reality we face. One quote in the preface stuck out to me.


“But what, you ask, of earth? Earth, I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of Heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in Hell: and earth, if put second to Heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of Heaven itself.”
(Lewis, Preface)


People in the first chapter seem to be caught in this very situation, inhabiting an “earth” that is, in fact, either a region of hell or the departure ground unto heaven. In our story, the queue exists. The bus exists. Few join the queue. Fewer persevere the queue. Most board the bus grudgingly.  Two slink to the back.

I once heard a preacher say that, for some, this life is as close to heaven as they’ll every taste. Amidst sin and brokenness, pain and sorrow, evil and death, “heaven” is but a temporary pleasure on the third rock from the sun. For others, this busted life is as close to hell as they’ll ever taste, for one day the old will pass away and only glory shall remain. Lewis takes the eternal reality and extends it into our current situation through the queue and this bus ride. His story takes off (literally) in the heart of this choice about eternity made from an earth that is either a region of hell or a slice of heaven.

Random Thinking

(No, this is probably not related. But if you follow me around long enough, you find that virtually everything and everyone I encounter has the potential to send my head somewhere)

I’ve had a long internal dialogue lately about the way that I view people. More often than not, I’m guilty of viewing people through a selfish lens – either as a project, a distraction, or as a means to an end. I believe we’re all guilty of this, it’s the nature of sin, but I’ve been more acutely aware of it in this most recent season of life. I’m grateful for the conviction, though conviction leads to change, and change is not always easy. As I read the writer’s thought process through the queue, I was challenged to think about the last few lines I endured. Do I remember any of the people who waited alongside me? Could I even describe them as “well” as the writer in the Divorce? Was I at all attentive to their needs?

I think about the writer’s encounter with the tousle-haired youth. When was the last time I met someone who wanted to talk when I wanted to be left alone? Or someone who wanted to show me something and I instinctively moved to my excuse without even giving them a chance? What holy compassion and generosity was I suppressing? Actually, as I type this I think of a man I met at the hospital last week. He was lost. His English was rough, but he and I were looking for the same place and so we were walking together. We shared the small talk about how easy it is to lose our compass in this maze of a medical facility. When we arrived, he started talking about his hair. He styled hair for a living, and he wanted me to see his work. There was a conversation there somewhere, but not for me. I smiled, I offered a brief compliment, but like the writer’s reading glasses, I searched for the fastest avenue out. He was another guy in the queue. Tuesday morning conviction.

Good fiction takes you places. Good fiction takes you where the author wants to go, but I also believe good fiction draws on reality and takes you places you never saw coming. I’d love to know where The Great Divorce takes you. Share a random thought if you’ve got one!



You can visit the Summer Reading page by clicking here, or by opening the menu at the top right. 





Summer Reading: An Invitation

(I’ve set up a page for this project. You can visit the page and follow along by clicking here.)

I’ve been reading Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Works for months. I don’t spend much time in fiction, but I love Sherlock Holmes. Arthur Conan Doyle does a wonderful job of drawing me into short stories. I find they challenge me to think along, to observe, to try to solve the case. They also provide a literary framework in which to appreciate the thespian efforts of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman.

This summer, I’m laying down Sherlock Holmes, though, to take an interim adventure. I’d like to invite you along for the ride… on a bus. No joke. It’s a literary bus ride.

I have a set of books on my dresser. They’ve been there for years. They consist of books that have had an impact on me for one reason or another. Among these books is a work by C.S. Lewis, the Great Divorce. I can remember being drawn into this strange bus ride, being challenged and convicted by the encounters of the book. The idea of the interaction of heaven and hell is intriguing.

Recently, I’ve had a number of conversations about heaven & hell. These conversations have prompted me to pick up Lewis’ great work again. Because I can’t read multiple works of fiction at the same time, I have also been prompted to put down all 1090 pages of Sherlock Holmes for a season.

So what is the invitation?

I know summer is a time when folks pick up books. I want to encourage you to pick up the Great Divorce and give it a read. 160 pages. It is about as far from intimidating as possible. Though a short work, I believe it will challenge you and provoke thoughts and conversation. I believe the book is suitable for everyone, which means it is an opportunity for individuals – young and old – couples, and families to read together if that’s your situation. Perhaps reading it out loud would be a unique experience? It will be guaranteed dinner conversation and quantity time together.

Will you join me?

Summer Reading

Each week, I’m planning to post thoughts & reflections here on a chapter of the book, as well as encouragement for those who maybe pick up a book every summer but rarely find the motivation to finish!

For those who are part of the FCC family, or those who are local to Grove City, this is an invitation to discuss the book over coffee at Beans, ice cream at Sweet Jeanie’s, or even to track me down on my front porch (it won’t be hard – I’ll be there more often than not for the next few months!) I believe the book will be a blessing. I look forward to hearing how you’ve been challenged as I share the same!