As I pick my snap peas, I also hear a pastoral note in Jeremiah 29. Yes, exile will be long. Babylon is not Jerusalem. All

Resurrection looks like an art project hung on a chain-link fence surrounding an empty lot. The transformation has not yet happened. There is still uncertainty

I’ve been thinking about this juxtaposition of reflections, one on the loss of laughter, the other on the loss of weeping. In both instances, the

They talked about the small gifts Alan would give to people, trinkets he picked up at the dollar store or thrift store. I myself was

I don’t have any memories of sermons from the second services, probably because I was often downstairs under the tutelage of Bob the Tomato instead.

To open up their hands to receive this Messiah, this good news, this Godly answer-in-flesh, they had to let another dream die.

Justin and I looked at each other over our coffees and knew at once that this would be our text as well. For in a

I started writing for the Reformed Journal blog in Autumn of 2019. Some five years later, I’ve just crested the 100-blog peak. When I look