If all we hope for after we die is to live as disembodied souls floating in the clouds as part of a heavenly choir, I’m just not interested. I love pizza way too much to ever believe in that kind of eternal destiny. I love apple crisp way too much to even entertain the idea that heaven would deprive me of what is so wonderful and pleasurable about being an embodied person. I’m holding out for a resurrected body with taste buds intact.
Do you have a line of poetry that sticks with you? The Companion wants to know—What’s your favorite phrase from a poem or song lyric?
A church planter returns to his roots in West Virginia.
SLOAN, IA (March 22, 2019) – This is how small towns are. Sloan is seven miles from Hornick, which completely flooded on Thursday, March 14, after a levee north of the community was breached due to the heavy rain and […]
The painful passage of a family fleeing persecution and the power of Covenant voices
Pastor Carol Shimmin Nordstrom writes in her February devotional of the Covenant Home Altar about overhearing staff at a coffee shop talking about what they were waiting for—finishing college, the season opener for a college sports team, etc. She was surprised […]
Practicing the Easter journey
When faced with the desperation of hurting children
in Mozambique, two couples took action.
Whole communities have changed.
All funerals and memorial services are hard in their own way. Loved ones cry, friends struggle to speak suitable words, and family members hold up the best they can under the weight of sorrow. Every funeral hurts. —But some burn.
