It was the third Sunday of June 1800, and the communion weekend at the Red River Meeting House was over. The little log church on[…]

It was Sunday morning, January 21, 1776, and the pews of a small Lutheran church in Woodstock, Virginia, were full. A cold wind rattled the[…]

There’s an old danger in moving into a house you didn’t build. The lights already work, the roof keeps out the rain, the well out[…]

Back in the gold rush days, a man could fill his pockets with rock that glittered yellow in the sun and walk into town dead[…]

A farmer working a field in late summer keeps one eye on the sky. He knows the light will not hold. There is only so[…]

Watch a good baseball team long enough, and you’ll spot him—the player who lays down a sacrifice bunt without being asked. The runner on first[…]

Watch a river sometime. Find one out in the country where the trees lean over the water, and nobody is around to bother you, and[…]

A runner settles into mile twenty of a marathon. His legs are burning, his lungs are working hard, and the finish line is still nowhere[…]

Picture a father walking his young son through a crowded sidewalk. At some point, the boy stumbles—maybe his shoelace catches, maybe somebody bumps him sideways—and[…]

Most Christians feel pulled in two directions when it comes to ambition. One voice insists hard work is the answer—rise early, plan thoroughly, push past[…]