The Backpack-carrying God

On my morning walk, I noticed a mom holding the hands of her two early elementary age children, on the other side of the busy brick street. When traffic cleared, she let go and they ran across, jostling oversized backpacks. On their way to school, I assumed, the children trudged in front of me up …

After all, Jesus

Will salvage radiation and hormone therapy, subsequent to surgery, cure my husband’s prostate cancer? I don’t know. In this uncertainty, I’m working on resting in the certain promises of Jesus, the incarnate God who weeps with us. And it is work. It’s work to remember to pray all day. It’s work to affirm God’s unseen …