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How taking my daughter’s pacifier away has given me perspective. Not too long ago I took my daughter’s pacifier (Bah) away from her permanently. She isn’t even two yet, but I gave her warning anyway. “This is your last month with Bah.” “Next week we are going to take your Bah away.” “Tomorrow morning, I am going to take Bah away. Do you understand?” She said she did. I walked…
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As I think about what it means to move forward in my writing at Time for Providence, I find myself praying in the Spirit: “Lord, help me discover the creativity to tell the stories of Your providence in a way that draws people to the love and truth of Your Word.” Lately the Lord has been using two unexpected lanes to expose what’s been shaping me: personality frameworks (through the…
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(Mark 13:21–22; 2 Thessalonians 2:1–12 — NASB 1995) There’s a kind of shaking that doesn’t come from earthquakes.It comes from the screen. A clip that feels too perfect.A “prophecy” that lands too precisely.A voice that sounds familiar—because it was built from someone familiar. The sea hasn’t changed.But the fog has. And when fog rolls in, sailors don’t steer by shimmer on the waves.They steer by the compass. Paul knew that…
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“And He said to them, ‘When I sent you out without money belt and bag and sandals, you did not lack anything, did you?’ They said, ‘No, nothing.’ And He said to them, ‘But now, whoever has a money belt is to take it along, likewise also a bag, and whoever has no sword is to sell his coat and buy one. For I tell you that this which is…
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There are days my faith feels like a voyage—wind in the sails, waves beneath the hull, and an unseen destination drawing me forward. I look at the horizon of my own life and realize something sobering: I am always moving. The only question is toward what—and by what compass. Scripture does not invite us to drift. It commands us to draw near. “Let us then with confidence draw near to…
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Accessing the Divine Through Transcendence—Without Losing the Gospel There’s a reason a sailing ship at sea feels “spiritual” to so many of us. Alone on open water, under a sky that looks endless, you feel it: smallness, wonder, vulnerability, longing. The horizon is both invitation and warning. It calls you forward, but it also reminds you you’re not in control. That’s the pull of transcendence—the sense that reality is bigger…
