Jesus led me out of the Fishing Room, down a corridor, deeper into the mysterious Fish House. The walls and ceiling were all of warm, sweet smelling cedar planking. Lanterns lined the walls giving the place a cozy cabin feel. Under my feet, the ice was replaced by granite tile covered by a long, Persian … More Cabin 21: Sweat it Out
This essay was my first attempt in college at grappling with the issues related to Theodicy, that is, the problem of reconciling the existence of an all-powerful, all-good God with the presence of evil and suffering in the world. Like many, my first exposure to this issue led me to the more traditional view influenced … More ESSAY: A Theology of Suffering (2001)
One reason I resisted being a “pastor” for so long was all the stereotypes I had in my head for what pastors are supposed to be like. My image always looked something like Mr. Rogers in a sweater and khakis. Warm, personable, emotionally steady, gentle and never, EVER moody. I don’t know where I picked … More Hope for Moody Pastors (Mark 3:3-6)
Then immediately behind me I heard the creaking hinges of a door swinging open, and turning around I saw Jesus standing in the doorway of a little wooden ice fishing shack. “Are you up for some more fishing?” he asked. As I walked over toward the shack I noticed I was still dressed in sopping … More Cabin 20: Ice Fishing
The wind was steady and the snow was blinding. I could barely see my own outstretched hand as I shuffled through the deepening snow. My bare legs were now numb from the cold as I plowed through drifts nearly up to my waist. Jesus’ footprints were barely visible and disappearing quickly. I had to keep … More Cabin 19: Footprints in the Snow
Kingdom Harbor 