Reality hit me a little more than six years ago when our doctor said, “This is Alzheimer’s.”
My friend Kim and I were sitting with our toes in the sand, watching our boys climb up the ladder and slide-splash into the lake. The weather was a glorious seventy-eight degrees in western Minnesota, following a cold snap that had killed all the mosquitos. It was a unicorn day at Lake Beauty Bible Camp. A kind of day where, like light through a prism, I caught a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven.
Josef Rasheed is the regional coordinator for Africa with Serve Globally. In that role he facilitates, coaches, and serves as a resource for missionaries/global personnel, national partner organizations, and Covenant churches.
Long before the 3-M company invented Post-it Notes, God was already prompting his people to jot down reminders of important events. The Hebrew word zakhor, which means remember, appears 169 times in the Hebrew Bible. The call to remember, along with the admonition not to forget, appears so frequently in the book of Deuteronomy that some scholars say the text puts forth a theology of memory for people of faith.
Most of my days start with a mindless pattern of taking care of the basics: brush the teeth, shower, prepare, and relax with a nice cup of coffee. Then I decide what the day will be like. If tomorrow happens, I’ll repeat those mundane actions—unless there is a reason for a change. I give little thought to the possibility of my routines being unexpectedly disrupted.
By Brad Dell Hundreds of white flags flapped in the wind, held by people from an array of economic classes, ethnicities, and communities following live worship music and rousing speeches by community leaders who urged love between neighbors. The stirring […]
In the kitchen of a home outside of Ramallah, I learned how to make qatayef. My young aunt Duha scooped the cheese into the sweet bread and neatly pressed the edges to fold it. I tried to follow her steps, and my step-grandmother, Umm Tayseer, showed me how to press it with her hands, smiling between a few Arabic words. Soon we fell into a peaceful rhythm, completing the tasty Ramadan sweets.
A caveat: I know and adore the authors of Impossible Love. I used to work with Craig and Médine Keener when we were all associated with Eastern University near Philadelphia. So if you’re looking for an objective, dispassionate review of this book, then mine will likely not do much for you.