It was one of those days. You know, the ones you never want to repeat again . . . or have anyone remind you of what went down. Connor was three, and he had discovered the fun of stuffing lots of toilet paper in the commode before flushing. He yells for me that the toilet is overflowing and I dash upstairs to assess the damage, only to find he had stuffed the toilet full with paper after . . .

Last year, I had the odd idea that I should give up wearing make-up for Lent.  But Lent was starting in just a few days, and the thought of not wearing make-up to certain places felt daunting . . . so I put the idea on hold.  I try to say “yes” to all of the Lord’s promptings, but He knew I needed more time to process this idea.  This was one of those thoughts God planted for me to ponder . . . until I felt His grace to move forward. So I told my Abba I was listening and gave Him my “yes” for the following year.  And now here I am a year later . . .

“Who wants to go door knocking with me?” Dad would joyfully yell through the house on a more frequent basis than I liked or was comfortable with. He would go door-to-door knocking to love on people, ask if they had prayer requests, ask what their needs were, even though we were too poor to meet most of the physical ones. If Dad couldn’t be ministering in a third world country somewhere, flying with JAARS or translating with Wycliff Bible translators, he was going to do his best in the environment he found himself. This he always made very clear. My Dad was raised in the Mennonite faith, their most prestigious lines of work being teaching, nursing and missions. My Dad has always had a huge heart for . . .

I think Joseph Conrad captured the truth when he wrote, “Gossip is what no one claims to like—but everyone enjoys.” Gossip is a pervasive part of our culture and entertainment today (just look at the magazine covers), and Christians are not exempt from the influence. We love to revel in the juicy details of someone else’s drama, especially when we are privy to the news before everyone else. Even Scripture acknowledges how it entices, referring to words of a gossip as “choice morsels” (Proverbs 18:8). The lure, and the lie, is that engaging in such talk will actually satisfy us. Our curiosity about other people’s lives is normal - this is part of being human and doing life in community.  When people meet to catch up on the activities of mutual friends, the talk is not typically malicious . . . and sharing life in this way can actually be a sign of trust and intimacy.  Gathering information from others can even serve the benefit of informing people about their environment (expectations, boundaries, working norms, social cues, etc.). But even with “good intentions,” we can participate ignorantly in gossip . . . and as I discussed this topic with friends, I found out they too had a hard time deciphering their involvement. So how can we determine . . .