Man in a Hoodie

I turned and looked. The man stopped at the end of the driveway by the paper box. He stared at me as he slowly came up the driveway. Step by step. I stood at the front door – the doorbell just inches from my hand, but I could not ring the bell.

The Good Fight

One day while vsiting Mom, I got a rare glimpse into the mind of one with Alzheimer’s. “I feel like I am in a tunnel and can’t find my way back,” she said. “Are you afraid?” I asked. “No, just frustrated.” “Where do you go in the tunnel?” I prodded. “I’m with my mother.” “Why do you go to your mother’s?” “Because she knows how to fix things,” she said, tapping her forehead.

What If…?

What if I lived as though Jesus’ resurrection demonstrates power in a way that surpasses my wildest dreams?  
What if I actually become a believer?
What if she’s just making this  stuff up about Jesus and eternal life?  
What if I had the chance to go into the past to meet my ancestors or go into the future to meet my great-great-grandchildren; how would I describe myself?