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Last year I prayed that God would show me a place to serve that was outside my suburban, 2-car-garage, Starbucks latte comfort zone. The countless Scriptures about serving the poor and needy bounded out of the pages of my Bible and waved their arms at me.

We invite you to join us for a slow soak in the Gospel of John.

Together, we will watch, consider, study, and worship Jesus, the Incarnate Word.

In our recent women’s Bible studies, we’ve moved at a brisk pace, gobbling up the goodness of the Word and fitting some longer studies into fewer weeks.

My son Adam’s job involves calibrating pharmaceutical instruments. He does all kinds of procedures I don’t understand to all kinds of machines I don’t understand so the gauges read accurately. So the medications we take are produced correctly. So we don’t die.

I can’t imagine why the gauges need all that attention. I mean, once you set them to the standard, shouldn’t they stay put? 

Every mom can close her eyes and visualize the ideal Mother’s Day. 

Older moms envision their kids all together in one place, laughing and enjoying each other in sanctified bliss. Young moms dream of sweet notes from their kids and a few hours of gorgeous solitude with iced coffee in hand. 

Sometimes those dreams come true, and sometimes–Poof!–they disappear in a cloud of pointless arguments or diaper blowouts.

Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, and Salome were up early. They hadn’t slept much anyway the past two nights–not after Friday when their beloved Jesus, incomprehensibly, had been disgraced and tortured to death on a Roman cross. Like a criminal. Like a curse. A mix of love and horror glued them to the scene, and now the image was burnt in their minds like a nightmare from which they couldn’t wake. Dreams were…