On Getting Old I was standing at the double sink of our 1950’s farmhouse in the Blue Ridge Mountain Range of the Appalachian Mountains. My gaze set on the eight blueberry bushes and the long row of heirloom white grapes – elbow deep in dish soap bubbles and my 17-year old son, my “baby,” came… [Read More]
we can’t go back – or can we?
Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3.13-14 We’re at the… [Read More]