In this sonnet George MacDonald shows us his foot-dragging, and what it takes to get him moving. I’m not MacDonald, but I’ve been where he’s been. My comments follow, in my voice. Read on! Read the rest of this entry »
In Fall 1999, my husband and I spent my sabbatical semester at a seminary in Nairobi, Kenya. Stunning beauty surrounded us: flaming sunsets and colorful sunrises, flowering trees and shrubs, brilliant birds, sassy monkeys, hungry dogs, hungry chickens, goats and cows. Nearly everyone lived on the seminary campus: students, faculty, staff and administrators, all with their families.
Classes met in one of two long, converted chicken coops. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 