Christianity Offends Me

Christianity Offends Me

Christianity will always offend. But we should more concerned with offending the gospel than with offending the world. Jesus was offensive even as He poured out love and kindness. He was offensive because He claimed to be the Way.

Why My Daughter’s Right to Life Trumps My Right to Choose

Why My Daughter’s Right to Life Trumps My Right to Choose

Scandal.

That’s what it is, not just what it’s called.

And they knew it would be, when they wrote that episode: the one where a child’s life is taken to boost viewer ratings or cause a ruckus across the internet for a few days. They knew that’s how it would go when they wrote an abortion scene. #Istandwithplannedparenthood, right? It’s just a show, right?

But it’s not.

Dear God: Here Are My Leftovers

Dear God: Here Are My Leftovers

The other night I made a magnificent replica of Olive Garden’s chicken and gnocchi soup. It had a whole stick of butter and two cups of milk and it was Italian perfection.

The problem: it made enough for six people, and Mr. M and I are only two.

I put the pot in the fridge and for the next week chicken and gnocchi stew was our primary lunch option. By the third day, I was really over it.

We were still in the midst of the gnocchi siege when my parents called, saying they would swing by on a Tuesday night – boosting our dinner number from the usual two to seven people. I raced to Kroger on my lunch to buy a fat-laced chuck roast, heirloom carrots and fingerling potatoes. Then I floored it home to get the meal in the crock pot before heading back to work.

The roast turned out perfectly for our company – walking in the door I could smell the herbs I’d rubbed into the meat, the smell of the beef broth and the vegetables, and pretty soon the green beans and rolls began to waft their scents into the air. I set the table carefully with my Blue Willow china and cleaned the kitchen. It’s not every day you have company from 16 hours away!

I put the gnocchi soup on the stovetop as a back up in case people were still hungry… but never served it. After all… it’s leftovers.

I’m a Christian, And I Cuss a Little

I’m a Christian, And I Cuss a Little

It’s not the first time I’ve used such choice words. Or rather, words of choice – those few who make themselves readily available in situations such as these. They lie in wait for stress, anxiety, car doors and thumbs to make their grand entrance. Not everyone struggles with their mouth and not everyone struggles with their mouth in this way. While I’m not proud about my temptation to swear when frustrated and angry, I’m not going to pretend I haven’t done it, as the story above illustrates with painful clarity. But there’s a bigger issue at play here; a question that may seem silly to ask but in a culture of compromise is one many Christians are asking: should I do anything about it?

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