13 Hours of Rain

I have been pondering the issue of church and how the institution utilizes money. In my experience, most of the money donated to the local church is dispersed to pay staff. Very little of the funds are allocated towards missions or the less fortunate. Thus, we have para-church organizations that specialize in the crucial admonitions of Jesus: sharing the Good News of Christ's death and resurrection in word and deed outside the walls of our local church. This is not necessarily a criticism, but rather an observation of reality. Personally, I highly respect the pastor of our church and believe she deserves the money that she is paid. Actually, she deserves much more, as do pastors in general! Having stated that, I admit we do not contribute our entire offering to our local church. Why? Because we are financially committed to supporting causes associated with global missions. In addition, we desire to be open to the needs around us, whether that is a new charity that ends up at our ...

I was settling down for a quick afternoon nap. The sound of rain drops were in the background. A comforting sound, a sound that took me back to a more leisurely time in my past. I was living and working in south-east Asia. It was a typical Saturday morning during the rainy season. The hum of the air conditioner filled the background of my flat while water was steadily pelting against the window pane. I had slept in. My time to recover after a busy week of teaching. Except for an assignment or exam to grade and some self-relegated housework, the day was mine for the taking. What to do, weather permitting? Walk down to the local bakery for a yummy coconut bun and then take a stroll in the park? Catch the mass transit rail to engage in bargain shopping at one of the many markets? Hop a bus to a semi-tropical hiking destination and bask in the sounds of nature? Meet a friend for supper at an ethnic restaurant of our choice amidst the stunning skyline of the city? Or curl up with a good boo...

I was dreading today. Started the morning by writing an e-mail to my sister to vent and ask for prayer. Why? First day on my own, without any help. My dear husband is at work for the next few days. Our two kids are under my care: one very extrovert, "please play with me" daughter; one little dependent boy who needs me to nourish him. By God's grace, I survived! It was a good day. Definitely not a perfect day. But good nonetheless. Hopefully the trend will continue. :)