Word and Thought
The Forgotten Memory of Former Love
As I walked away, it hit me: I love someone who can’t remember that she loves me…
Beautiful Ahmaud
I go back to beautiful Ahmaud. Because I think it all turns on our ability to see the beauty in the sheer existence of another person. Racism is the perverse offspring of a pair of eyes and a hardened heart that have come together in their refusal to acknowledge the beauty in another person. A person that’s made in the Image of God.
The Meaning Beyond Absurdity
But there can only be meaning because Jesus was plunged into the abyss of absurdity. He took the full spectrum of human rebellion and the pain and absurdity of the world into his body—into the very depths of his being—and was crushed by it. And on this Holy Saturday we are not in a hurry to race ahead to Sunday. We sit patiently and feel something of that crushing.
Remembering Eugene Peterson
I had never met Eugene before I sent that letter and, frankly, he had no reason to write me back. He was 76 and could have ridden off into the sunset of the retirement he had earned. Nobody would have blamed him, not even I. But to my great surprise, he wrote back and invited me to their home in Montana for a few days of conversation and prayer.