Whispers of Truth

“There is a way to be good again.”   This thought-provoking statement screams to the reader in the short opening chapter of The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. In fact, I believe that statement is the essence of the appeal of this difficult-to-read, yet beautifully written novel about guilt and redemption. The very idea that a bad act (or non-action) committed in the past could be undone or corrected appeals to all; which of us hasn’t struggled with at least one life-altering decision—an “if only” of life? Unfortunately, we cannot undo the consequences of our bad actions (our sins). Somewhere deep down most know this, but many of us struggle to redeem ourselves, which is totally impossible, but . . . there is One who can free us from the guilt and stain of our sins.   For this I am thankful; if you really knew me, you would know that I am a sinner who has made a lot of bad decisions and committed a lot of sin in my lifetime. (It isn’t all big stuff, but sin does have a way o

I am a firm believer in practice. In fact, I guess you could say I have pretty much banked most of my life on it. As long as I can remember, I have been practicing something--dance (very early in life before my awkward stage), softball (to get out of much-hated summer garden work from 3rd-12th grade), band (years and years of playing the flute), piano (my dad wouldn't let me choose between piano and flute when I wanted to quit, so I kept both), teaching (seemed like a good idea at the time), marriage (24-plus years now, but I am not sure how much better I am than when I started at being a wife),  mothering (currently to 18-, 20-, and 21-year-olds), friend (ugh this one is tough and I stink at it), and the list could just keep going . . .but I won't bore you! The point is, practice is something we all engage in, whether eagerly for something we love or out of obligation or a hundred other sometimes nebulous reasons. However, Galatians 5 tells me that if I practice the wrong th

Recently, the Tenth Avenue North song entitled “No Man Is An Island” has been ringing through my head on an endless loop. It probably doesn’t help that I am beginning an Old English unit in my AP class that features an excerpt from a poem by John Donne featuring the same key phrase. The work by Donne is called Devotions upon emergent occasions and several steps in my sickness - Meditation XVII (1624) and leads into the well-known part of the excerpt that includes the title of the song mentioned above by saying, All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.... The poem speaks to the idea that all men are connected and share t