Is it Me?

When I was in kindergarten, there was a group of girls that were whispering in a circle, looking over at me and giggling. I was mortified. What was so funny about me? What were they saying about me? Tears stung my eyes. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I looked at my...

Stop Hiding

My daughter’s small voice swelled as it rose above those around her in worship last Sunday. I watched as she poured her whole self into the effort, an experience that consumed all of her — mind, body, and spirit. It wasn’t perfectly tuned, perfectly...