Isaiah 40

We gave our readers a one-word writing prompt: “Wind.”

We gave our readers a one-word writing prompt: “Wind.”

Mysterious truth in fiction and in reality

It's Advent, and accusations against prominent men are shaking things up like a highway construction project in the wilderness.

There is comfort, and then there is comfort.

In Flint, we know something about nostalgia and despair—and hope.

For a long time, Luther's hometown lay forgotten.

My words feel small. Like I’m trying to beat back the ocean with a stick. I could command the waves to stop, but the sea will keep pounding the sand. Recent world events have generated a lot of fodder for preachers and writers, and yet I have nothing to say. 

The son of a truck driver, I like highways and image of travel. Checking The New Interpreter’s Bible Dictionary's entry about roads and highways, I learned that a messila was a built-up road, intentionally constructed and improved, while a derekh (Num. 20:17, 19, Judg. 21:19) was a path was formed because of constant use and thus had become a road.

Patience is not one of our stronger characteristics. A flight delay or traffic jam can become an emotional and physical crisis.

When our girls were still quite young, my husband Norm and I moved our family from our fast-paced life and work in Chicago to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, where Norm had accepted a teaching position. Feeling a bit like Abraham and Sarah, we made a radical change of landscape.

I'm afraid I want the good news of Christmas without the challenge.

We know things only insofar as we can describe their likeness.

Every valley shall be exalted—but when?

Isaiah is a master at putting God and humankind in perspective.