Those Whose Lives Are Lent

Last week, I broke my own rule…

As a matter of principle, I avoid offering motel vouchers to our friends in the Compassion Ministry.  It simply is not a financially sustainable service to provide. We offer a wide variety of resources -- meals, a food bank, safety, hospitality, mentorship, medical care -- but not

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Mike Sandgren Comment
Listening: How to Care Less But Actually Care More

Leaves rustle behind me. I listen. The minute intermittent scratch—barely audible, but amplified by the silence around me—is the only sound for miles. Besides my own breathing.

It’s a field mouse burrowing under the long, golden grass that is my seat. Now a crow croaks above. His wings send a windy squeak into the stillness. If clouds made noise as they scraped over the snow-dusted mountain peaks, today I would hear it.

It’s that quiet.

Stillness. Peace.

This day my world consists of the shifting sounds and changing colors of wilderness. The aspens stand on their milky trunks with their gray branches reaching for eternity. A doe and fawn skitter through the meadow, never realizing my hunting partner and

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Eugene ScottComment
What do you listen to?

I’d venture to guess that, like most people, you listen to lots of different things. Whether we’re at home, in the car, at work, or in the grocery store, most of us are constantly listening to something—music, podcasts, audio books, radio, and the like.

But have you ever considered how the things you listen to affect you?

Specifically, (and probably not surprisingly) I think of music. Athletes listen to music to get themselves “pumped up” before the game; after a stressful

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David NorrisComment
A Feast of Silence

A muffler of heavy snow shrouds my world.  Only a few inches, but enough.  Fallen snow can create a cavernous silence. Sound catches in it and rolls up like a huge snow ball to sit and wait for a thaw. Then it breaks loose again, noisy, intrusive, grating. Until then, a snowy night

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Eugene ScottComment
On The Edge Of Ashes

Last year's Hosanna's have gone.  Palm branches have been burned and what is left resides in a small container no larger than my hand.  The ashes, the dark, smudgy ashes are ready for marking.  But what do they mark, really?  What do they remind us of?  Why do so many in the world chose to have this mark imposed on them?


These sooty ashes are applied with the words "You are dust and to dust you will return", and so they remind us of our earthiness.  They speak of our mortality, for

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Tara Malouf Comment the middle of the night.

Although you hear often from parents about the exhaustion and lack of sleep in the first year of your little one’s life, you can’t really know how you will feel until you are in the midst of it. And when you finally have a good sleeper and you are lulled into the false sense of security that your baby will sleep through the night and then they regress and wake up many times in the night, it is like the world is ending and you think you will never be able to function again! A couple of weeks ago, our 6 month old son, Micah, got hit with the plague that has been going around. He had an entire night of a fever and chills and wouldn’t let us put him down, so Jeff and I took hour-long shifts all night long

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Katie Gayle Comments
Listening to God: A Matter of Life and Death

Noisy Oklahoma rain pounded against my office window. Being a good Colorado boy, I didn’t own an umbrella. It was a good day to hunker down. Besides, I had a Bible study to prepare.


Except I couldn’t get Kalista off my mind. Kalista was a member of my congregation in Tulsa. She was irrepressible, dimple-cheeked, funny

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