I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all that you have done;
I ponder the work of your hands. Psalm 143:5
I was in Denver last week for the General Assembly of our denomination. While it was, I think, a good meeting in terms of content and outcomes, my greatest joy, as always, was the time spent with friends. I especially enjoyed a lunchtime conversation with someone I have known for a lifetime, dinner with friends from not so long ago, and what has become an annual face to face with a former colleague now a continent away. Perhaps my greatest joy came from the group of fellow pastors staying at the same hotel and with whom I shared more than one dinner or evening of good conversation. And they’re all young – young, as in young enough to be my sons (SPECIAL BONUS: Our son Christopher, the Air Force chaplain, was among them!).
Our last evening we were sitting around a patio table on a warm Colorado evening. Food, drink, and conversation were good. As it often happens when friends are together, we began to share stories of times past, the good old days. I decided it was best for me to just sit and listen.
“Remember when your parents had to print a map from MapQuest before a trip?” one of the thirty-somethings said, sweet nostalgia in his voice. Stories of MapQuest dead ends and Garmin failures followed. Continue reading




Churchgoers of a certain age may feel a twinge of PTSD when they see a photo of an old Kodak Carousel slide projector. We remember the guest missionary setting up the screen and projector for the program after the potluck. And we remember our quick prayer, “Please not all three trays.” But all three trays it was.
The photo in the header was taken in the woodshop of a friend in Brazil. He and his wife live not far from Igreja Presbiteriana and are faithful members of the church. The photo offers just a glimpse of the craftsmanship that emerges from this non-descript shop next to a non-descript house in a non-descript neighborhood.