When ‘radical’ faith looks a lot like the everyday

In July, Sarah and I went to my hometown to speak at the little public library where I worked when I was 14. My mom and stepdad and some of my aunts and cousins and even some strangers packed the tiny room that in the late ’90s was a garage for the village’s EMS.

Someone (unfairly) asked me (in the presence of my mom) whether I’d ever consider moving home, back to the place in Ohio where I’d graduated a decade and a half ago.

“I mean, could you do this sort of thing” — she referenced the new-monastic-like, Year of Small Things, radical-faith thing — “here in a rural place or a small town?”


Tell me.


A small patch of stable ground

The weight of the Rubbermaids bent the wooden shelves in the garage. It was, what, 19 degrees, and I had Dave lugging them inside earlier this week. “Why now?” he moaned. He’s been going to the gym, all that bacon, and his arms, you know. “Because –” I started, not sure how to explain why now Read more about A small patch of stable ground[…]

Living the same old stories

“Sometimes at night I practice telling Michael,” her elephant, “about Jesus’ best stories so I can remember to tell them to my six boys when I grow up.” “Oh yeah? Those are some good stories to practice,” I say. We were dancing in the dark, twirling under new glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. “Which one’s Read more about Living the same old stories[…]

Not that anyone ever considered children nuisances, ever

(When we stop ourselves from complaining about someone:) “Now he can allow the brother to exist as a completely free person, as God made him to be. His view expands and, to his amazement, for the first time he sees, shining above his brethren, the richness of God’s creative glory. God did not make this Read more about Not that anyone ever considered children nuisances, ever[…]