I am dying. Of cancer. This past Christmas was my last. Spring always has been my favorite season.
We played church. We even played wedding. I don’t think we ever played funeral. Should children attend the latter?
Hearing a radio preacher recently, I took note of his prayer to God to send a revival to our land.
A rookie police officer has a little training but no experience. Same thing goes for a rookie preacher.
Good news! A cheese factory just started up in our area. Part of a dairy complex. Some of my friends are moving there.
Chaucer spelled my name mous. In Latin it is mus. The influence
Are people smarter than animals?
eople are big! Jesus healed a blind man who, upon opening his eyes, said he saw people as trees walking (Mark 8:24).
The walrus said to the oysters, “The time has come to talk of many things: of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax &mdas
Like a fly on a wall, I too can eavesdrop. I overhear because I am overlooked. Like God. Sometimes I get an earful.
The Common Cup coffee house in Rogers Park, Ill., looks and feels like many neighborhood java joints in the Chicago area.
I always come early for morning services so I can take my place undetected under the back bench.
Being a church mouse is a lonely business.
Eppinga is waiting for his ship to come in. It won’t. Meanwhile, he has asked me to write his column for a few months.
Years ago Bob Hope said in an interview that when preachers get together it’s a lot of laughs, but when comedians do the same, it&r
Sometimes I preach in Christian Reformed churches where nothing in the worship hour reminds me that I’m in a Christian Reformed chu
Weekly, even daily, we hear the sad news. The statistics climb ever higher of soldiers making the supreme sacrifice.
I have a friend who owns a banquet hall.
On my last visit to Europe I spent an unforgettable evening with a dozen or so relatives in Sexbierum, the Netherlands—a small vill
This page is not for the birds. It is for us. And about the birds.
I am picky when it comes to what we sing in church.
It is always intriguing for me to read the various notices in Christianity Today, First Things, and similar publications announ
My father loved to tell the joke about the man who looked in the paper every morning to see if his name was in it.
During World War II days, the Andrews Sisters made the Hit Parade with their song “Roll Out the Barrel” (. . .