Every time that I leave a gathering where there are under twenty-ones present, my heart hurts for them, because, no matter what the words are that come out their mouths, the pain in their eyes screams louder.
When they experience Jesus deeply and personally, it is because, every day of their lives, they come face to face with the alternative. (And, this is America. This is the land where life is good.)
Brains and Boxes
Nine years ago, I sat on a dark rooftop with an uncertain and frustrated team. Frustrated by the four walls that seemed to be hemming t...
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There is a certain kind of hoarse shriek that I am convinced only the middle school male is capable of producing. Some of them with ... -
High schoolers. Bonfires. Banana splits. Bodies every direction that you turn. There are either 130 of them here or 140, a tightly p...
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