My mother sat down, clasped her hands under her chin casting her penetrating eyes on me and asked, “Whose is this?”
Suddenly, my face and ears had a temperature of their own. Hot. Fear and guilt gripped me tighter than bark on a tree. “Rob’s,” I said.
Category: sin
A Profound Chinese Question
She looked from the notepad to me. “He ask, ‘If Jesus be good, why He make mother so sad?'”
Stubborn as a Mule
Try to read psalm 23 as if you were that stubborn mule rather than a lamb. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall want my own way. He makes me lie down in green pastures, but I will keep geting up and wanderng off to eat dead grass. He’ll pull me to quiet waters, but I will refuse to drink.