Finding God in the Thin Places (On my Pilgrimage to Ireland)

In Ireland, there is a place outside Dublin called Glendalaugh where I regularly experience a thin place. Tradition has it that Saint Kevin settled there in a cave in the sixth century. It overlooks a lake as black as a moonless and starless night. A forest surrounds it, with ancient trees covered in moss and dark green leaves. Early in the morning a mist hovers above ground, like out of a fairy tale. It’s no wonder that Kevin chose this place for his home.

In Praise of a Wasted Day

Our lives are directed by to-do lists and calendars and productivity apps. I don’t wake with the sun but with a clock. And the things invented in this world to serve me have become my masters. Sometimes, I fear that I have mistaken crossing something off my list for life. Because the point of life is not to be productive.

How the Son of a Rural Sharecropper Became an Ambassador for Humanity: The Story of Blind Willie Johnson

At the age of five, George Johnson gave his son Willie a gift that would change his life—a cigar box guitar. As Willie picked it up and began strumming, it soon became apparent that he had a gift. A couple of years later, Willie’s stepmother was caught cheating, and his father beat her out of …