Imagine a man slowly sailing through the clouds in a bright, striped hot air balloon. The air is cool, save for the spurt of fire keeping the balloon bellowed and full. As the current toys with his hair, he studies the tiny images below...rectangles of green and brown grass, houses and snaking highways. Everything seems so small, and from his vantage point, he feels so very big. His hand cups the canvas edges of the basket wall and he frowns. Everything is perfect except for the stupid walls keeping him in. He wants to feel like a bird, to fly,…

I stared at the Hot Wheels car submerged at the bottom of our toilet and frowned. I arched my brow and turned to spear my wide-eyed three-year old son with "the look". He stood in his under-roos, clutching his Buzz Lightyear doll in his chubby arms, blinking those big brown eyes up at me with the innocent look of a deer. "Nate, did you throw your Hot Wheel car in the potty?" He swallowed, his eyes darting side to side. When his gaze landed on his Buzz Lightyear, he offered a hopeful, lopsided grin and pointed to the toy with…

I was sitting on a rumbling plane in Chicago, waiting for the painfully slow pilot to push us back from the gate. No one seemed to be in a hurry that morning. Not the airline nor the stewards. Even the ground controllers outside my window appeared to be dragging their feet. I blinked the grit from my eyes. I wasn't faring much better. The stale air blowing through the circular vents overhead wasn't helping. Everyone seemed sluggish...except for the four year boy seated behind me in 22 F. The squirming tyke with his high-pitched voice was chattering nonstop, barely stopping…

We're up to lie #5 in our series on exposing the enemy's schemes..."Approval means I'm loved." This lie was nearly my undoing. I desperately want people to like me. There. I said it. The thought of someone being displeased with me in any way drops a sick feeling in my gut. What's one way to shake that cold feeling of dread? Work harder. Be more agreeable, more likable. Fit in. Be accepted and never, ever let them see the real you. After all, if they know what you're really like, the acceptance will disappear. Right?   That's what I told…

Lord, thank You for the gift of language. Thank You for written words that connect and reveal Your heart to ours. Thank you for the gift of creativity. The way Your Spirit moves through the realm of the unseen muse is a precious gift. I lift up my words, my written thoughts, my stories on the altar to You, Lord. I do not idolize them, Father, or think they are without flaw, for like me they are messy and tainted by sin. Yet I offer all that I have and yield it to You. In my weakness, show Yourself strong.…

As part of our series "Liar", a look at the enemy's schemes and how to defeat them, we've come to a rather tricky little lie. Little #4: God is not really enough. Why is this one so sneaky? I think it's because many of us don't realize we have fallen for it. The truth is we say Jesus is all we need, we sing it in countless hymns and worship songs and print it on t-shirts and bumper stickers. But do we really mean it?  I was recently singing Kari Jobe's beautiful song "What Love Is This" in worship one…