Mrs. Clancy’s husband died in his leather recliner — an island surrounded by half-empty pill bottles, moldy food on plastic plates, man-sized diapers, and Car and Driver magazines. Mr. Clancy, in his prime, had owned a car dealership. He bequeathed his unhappy wife substantial funds from an insurance policy which she spent liberally to satisfy bizarre hoarding…
Carol and I offer this glimpse into our 48-years of marriage to remind you that Jesus heals all wounds. Don’t give up! ———– SHE SAID: Love isn’t always normal. You romanced me with nothing. You drove an old pickup. You lived in a studio apartment. But I said “I do” to a boy with a…
Isn’t it amazing that a drop of saliva can identify the culture “soil” from which we sprout–European, African, Asian, Middle Eastern…? Our family fathers were stone masons, preachers, lawyers, engineers, and outlaws! Like old journals, their values gather dust until we face life-altering choices. Then it matters what kinds of fathers we have as a heritage.…
God used my firstborn son to grind off some of my sharp edges. Sparks flew, and God positioned my second and third son to file down more barbs and burrs. I felt pretty smooth. But my wife looked over their work, and she immediately had a conversation with God–like I wasn’t even in the room.…
Cache of Grace 