Growing up, my younger brother, sister, and I made the coolest living room tents. Couch cushions, pillows, blankets, heavy books, the coffee table, and every chair we could take by eminent domain were brought for the building of these subcommunities. As the oldest city planner, I calculated the most efficient placement of the tallest pieces of furniture for maximum living space. We brought in amenities such as snacks, flashlights, and books, and we visited each other’s caves by wriggling our little bodies forward on the carpet like worms with elbows. The quality of life in these spacious tent cities was ranked very high, often attracting
Have you ever sat down with your Bible, a fresh cup of coffee in hand, and a heart ready to connect with God, only to realize five minutes later that you’ve been reading the same sentence about genealogical records while mentally adding “buy more laundry detergent” to your grocery list?
I have been there more times than I care to admit. Once, during a particularly quiet morning, I found myself so deeply distracted that I actually started wondering if there was a biblical Greek word for “espresso.” Spoiler alert: it is not in there.
If your heart is heavy for a loved one who is struggling with their faith, this post is for you. You are not alone, and neither are they.