Have you ever felt proud and embarrassed about an area of your life all at the same time? That's me when it comes to running. I call it running, because my feet actually leave the ground in a bouncing gait which is unlike walking. I don't call it running because I'm moving fast. I'd say a disabled turtle mired in molasses wouldn't lose too badly to me in a race. I'm slow, okay? Really slow. Still, I do pass people on the trail who are moving even slower than I am. (Granted, they are usually elderly or infirm or just out for a stroll, but the fact is, Continue Reading
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How “Safe” Is Not Synonymous with Good
Are you troubled by all the talk of what is safe or not these days? In a world full of terrorism, riots, and abusive authority figures, we want protection -- but could it be the pendulum has swung too far the other way? Don't get me wrong; I believe in safety. Abuse and bullying need to be called out and shut down. Having said that ... [Tweet "We get in trouble when psychology frames our theology instead of the other way around."] I'll give you the most extreme example I've heard: When God the Father sent his Son to earth to die for our sins, he committed child Continue Reading
Don’t Go from Protecting Victims to Being the Next Bully
You hate injustice. Something rises up in you when whites use their power to oppress blacks, or protestors claim that God hates gays, or priests use children to satisfy their urges. Such selfish acts are cruel and morally reprehensible. You want to speak out against evil. That's because you are created in God's image, and he is just. You are wired with a "justice monitor." We start the cry in childhood: That's not fair! Something deep in us wants the scales of justice to return to proper balance. Here's where we need to be careful. Justice is important, Continue Reading
How to Get Your Joy Back — And Keep It
You wouldn't have thought it was a big deal. Nothing that unusual about a mother handing her exhausted grown son a warm rice bag and a couple of ibuprofen for his headache. A pretty uneventful errand to bring his supper to the couch where he is resting. It was one of the best moments of my life. Flash back about thirteen hours. It's about 5 a.m. that cold December day, still pitch-black outside. I am awakened by my husband's hand on my shoulder. Scott does not ever purposefully touch me when I'm asleep because, well, the consequences Continue Reading



