Whether it’s circled in red marker on our wall calendars or programmed in green in our phones, many of us are anticipating Easter weekend. Often our traditions emphasize either resurrection rejoicing or cross-centered sorrow at the expense of the other. Which is the right posture?
The Village Blog
During the Cold War era, “the bomb” was a phrase that touched everyone’s lips. Students practiced bomb drills in school. People built shelters in their backyards out of fear that the Communists might drop the bomb on their city. And while the Cold War is over now, the fear of weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) in the hands of terrorists lives in the minds of the post-9/11 generation.
We watch them. We play them. We talk about them. We listen to experts talk about them. Yet we see sports as nothing more than entertainment—meaningless, harmless fun. If not that, we see sports as bad or evil—after all isn’t the stadium, like a sanctuary, a place of worship?
Christian encouragement is a command. But like the command to evangelize, we often find it awkward to employ in everyday life. It doesn’t have to be awkward, though. Like any other skill, we get better at it with practice.
If you lived in America in the ‘60s, would you have marched with Martin Luther King? If you lived in Germany in the ‘40s, would you have stood up to the Nazi regime and demanded the liberation of the Jews?
I was a tomboy until about the time I started middle school. My brother is two and half years older than me and, from an early age, I wanted to be exactly like him. We rode our bikes through the neighborhood and went exploring in the woods behind our house and built forts out of pillows where we would hide and plan the next day’s adventures.
It’s hard to be a parent, especially when there is an exuberant chorus of voices weighing in on how to parent “the right way.” We sometimes feel judged by the words of others, rather than seeing them as a reference point to consider in light of our unique family dynamic.
I grew up in the Bible Belt where, by mid-elementary, most of the kids in my peer group could point proudly to a note written in the front of their Bibles announcing the exact date they Got Saved. At junior high youth rallies, the Rededications began, along with a smattering of I-Thought-I-Was-Saved-But-I-Really-Wasn’t (scribble over that first date and write in the new one).