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For many years growing up, I read the word in a bible that I still own; it’s black, slightly dog-eared, and well thumbed. Inside the front cover is an inscription from Mike, dated 1994. I remember Mike well, he lived with us for a while, and my lasting memory of him is walking along a beach in Northumberland with him talking to me about Jesus and about the need to make a personal choice to follow. Mike wasn’t one of the church leaders, or one of my blood relatives, he was an international student. He is one of the first...
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I remember when I was younger there was an expression of love that went beyond all other; sure you could like a person, you could even love a person, but could you love anyone enough to give them your last rolo? There was a long running line of television commercials built around the idea that these small chocolate treats were so tasty that you’d only give up your last rolo if it it was really love. In the last two posts we’ve looked together at the definition of church, and at the need for us to love the church. But there...
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