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When Your Faith Doesn't Move Mountains

The gypsy had a layer of skin where eyes normally should go. He also had stringy hair with yellow flakes falling out, and a dirty unbuttoned white shirt. His home was made of cardboard, and his kitchen was a fire pit. The least we could do was heal his eyes. This was my second Teen…
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Domesticating God

My friend Caris Adel is a gifted storyteller and I am so excited to share her words with you today for our series on From Grape Juice to Red Wine. I so relate to her journey of finding a God who is not contained to a book. Do you? Read the piece first and then…
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Church shopping at the wrong mall: A story of Easter Sundays. #FGJ2RW Part VII

I sometimes track my faith journey by Easter Sundays. Two Easters ago, my husband and I, as well as the growing baby inside me, were church shopping with an enthusiasm that would quickly wear off. It started out exciting. Google Maps showed hundreds of red dots when we searched the term “church”. Each red dot…
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Church shopping at the wrong mall: A story of Easter Sundays. #FGJ2RW Part VII

I sometimes track my faith journey by Easter Sundays. Two Easters ago, my husband and I, as well as the growing baby inside me, were church shopping with an enthusiasm that would quickly wear off. It started out exciting. Google Maps showed hundreds of red dots when we searched the term “church”. Each red dot…
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When Empty Crosses Aren’t Enough: From Grape Juice To Red Wine Part VI

When writer Natalie Trust agreed to do a guest post for “From Grape Juice to Red Wine“, I did a happy dance in my kitchen. Natalie is just one of those salt-of-the-earth storytellers: honest, gracious, funny and dead-on. I know you’ll enjoy her piece today. If you do, keep a look out for the memoir she’s…
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