The Bee Gees had a hit song during the disco craze of the 70’s called “More than a Woman.” I wonder if we should think of Jesus as more than a man.

Part of my morning routine includes setting on the edge of a lake and doing nothing. I just sit there and look around me. I enjoy the trees, clouds, weeds, turtles, tadpoles, geese, and rippling water. I feel a gentle freeze, a drizzle, or sometimes a harsh cold stillness. I hear the wind in the trees, birds singing, frogs croaking. I smell the honeysuckle and blooming trees. Before long I automatically start praising God as the creator of all. How can I not, when all nature does.

Five months in, and 2024 has been the worst year of my life. A water heater leak, a tree on our house, and the death of not one but two of our cats, one of them less than four years old and the other less than 6 months old.

People who know me today have a hard time accepting the fact that by nature I’m an introvert. But I truly am. I have shared before about my love for reading that I’ve had since a young age, and I would much rather be left alone to read a good book than to be in any social situation.

There are moments in our lives where we don’t know what to say, but we know we will never forget. 160 years ago, President Abraham Lincoln had to imagine what to say to a war-torn country struggling to understand the loss of life. “The world will little note nor long remember what we say here,” declared the President, “but it will never forget what they did here.”

When my father was about seventy-four years old, he decided to open a restaurant by the railroad tracks in Kensett called, appropriately enough, Sheltons’. It opened in 1996 and lasted until early 2001. It was a popular place and had a number of regulars.

Sometime ago, I was flying back from Pontiac, Michigan where I spoke at the funeral of a dear, sweet lady who touched the hearts of hundreds of people over her lifetime of eighty-four years.

The longer I am blessed to journey alongside Christian brothers and sisters the more I realize that Christian community is a powerful glue that holds us steady on our course through this earth to reach our destiny in heaven.

I teach several courses in Photography in the Department of Art, Architecture & Design. Artists like to do things the old-fashioned way. I think it has to do with working with our hands as well as our heads, but it also connects us with the senses of touch and, at times, our olfactory sense.

"A cord of three strands is not quickly broken." (Ecc 4:12b)

When a married couple drifts away from God, they also drift away from each other.

If you want to strengthen a marriage, first strengthen your relationship to God.

Words. Words are powerful. Words give direction. Words move us, shape us. There are times when words break our hearts, fill us with fear, torment us. Sometimes, when they come from one we might respect, we are shamed by their words, hurt by them. They cause our eyes to go blind with tears.

I’m an early riser, so sometimes I see things other people miss. For example, last fall I was astonished when from my porch, I saw a young man riding a bike down a deserted Charles Street at dawn – with a twin mattress on his handlebars. A man on a mission. There was definitely a story there. It pays to keep your eyes open; sometimes you see things that will amaze you.

Back in the 1970s, Chester was our class clown. Nature had given him a natural ability to break everyone up whenever he wanted. One very hot July day, my cousin Darrell and I were supposed to go down below West Point and help Darrell’s dad haul some hay. We needed one more person to help and we got Chester to come along.

When Jesus walked on the earth he was flesh and blood. One could visit with Him, shake His hand, even hug Him. As we partake in the communion meal we are told, ”Do This in Remembrance of Me”, as the message carved in the front of communion tables remind us.

"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life." —John Lennon

Meaning? Purpose? Many of us may have struggled with defining our purpose. Let me share a personal story about my search for purpose.

Grandpa Smith lived out from Harrisburg, Arkansas on Possum Hollow Road. He was born in 1888 and like many, many men of that era, did not have much formal education. However, there was no doubting his intelligence as his wit was very quick and sharp as a razor.

Have you ever used a rock tumbler? You put rocks in a barrel along with different grades of sand, from coarse to fine. The coarse sand chips away the corners of the rocks to make them into a common shape, whereas the fine sand polishes the rocks with a shiny surface.

Have you ever lost someone dear to you and it feels like there is a hole inside your heart? The disciples probably had an overwhelming feeling of grief after Jesus died and they buried his body. The Gospel of Mark describes a gruesome and hopeless scene of the disciples seeing the place where they laid the body of their innocent Messiah (15:47).

Sue sits on the last pew – right on the aisle. She wandered into our midst from some run-down rental property, looking as if she were in need – of some basic hygiene instruction, perhaps of some medical care, perhaps even a case worker.