One, two, three, four, five. At the front of the room, five teenagers sit, waiting for their chance to speak. For 10 days, the 18 were in Kenya, land of

On a rain-lashed night, we sit, Mister and I, in a motel room, talking. They’re down here for meetings, our Canadian friends, and we are, at long last, catching up.

He’s been preachin’ on the Gospel, Pastor has, and last week’s word was, “The Gospel works.” Right here in our mess, in our world, in our hurts, the Gospel (“good

“For my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus (Phil. 4:19).” That’s the verse we were studying in class that day. At

It had been planned, now, for months. First came an interview, then the letter (“you’ve been accepted”), then training and fundraising and more preparation. And then, all at once, the

It was a single verse. In the quiet of this day in early spring, I’m skimming along on my way to a different reference when my eyes graze it. “Dear

It was the culmination of a long, hard, pain-wracked flight to the Far Country by our prodigal; the severe, stubborn mercy of Lord Christ; and the trial by fire that

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“I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble, but take heart! I have overcome the world.” –

Eager, I race across the grass. Papa’s bright, golden sun is lighting the world. A fresh breeze blows, and birds sing praise high in the trees on The Three. I