“I’ve to run. My flat . . . someone’s entered my flat. I must go,” I told my boss in a barely audible whisper. I could hardly believe my ears when I received a phone call from my sister to say we had been robbed.
I will never forget pulling away from a leprosy colony in Southern India the summer of 2003. I was 13 then and had just helped my family conduct a worship service for a couple dozen Christians in the colony.
One of the latest buzzwords in today’s culture is “identity”. Whether it’s race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, socioeconomic status, or relationship status, there are so many ways we can identify ourselves.
I’m a jokester. God has gifted me with the ability to lighten up a tense atmosphere and cheer people up. But like so many others, I have used this God-given talent to glorify myself instead of Him.
On one occasion, my little girl drove me to tears. She opened her arms the moment she saw me walk into the bedroom. There was no doubt in her mind that her father was going to receive her.