Honest post: why I’m still LCMS, even when it frustrates me.
Not a defense with my eyes closed. Not a critic with one foot out the door. Just the truth about what keeps me here theology, sacraments, liturgy, and a family I didn’t choose but wouldn’t trade.
No Distance A 1,100-Mile Night It was after 11pm on a Saturday night when my phone lit up. My daughter’s name on the screen. And her voice, the second she said it, I knew. Not from the words yet. From the sound underneath them. “Daddy, I need you.” She hasn’t called me Daddy in years….
The chairs will tell you when you’re full. They won’t tell you what to do about it.
New post on the real factors behind adding a service – culture, staffing, and mission, not just math.
Convention week will test more than our resolutions. It’ll test whether we can disagree like family.
A practical field guide for delegates before the floor, on the floor, and after the gavel falls. Link in bio.
Two hundred and fifty years. That’s not a number you say quickly. Say it slow. And let it sink in. Two. Hundred. And. Fifty. Years. That’s 250 years of blood, sweat, and tears poured into an idea. The idea that a people could govern themselves, that liberty was worth the cost, that some things are…
Imagine sitting outside with butter in one hand and an open container of Play-Doh in the other. We are like one of them. Which describes you?
After three rounds of balloting, Rev. Dr. Matthew Harrison has been re-elected LCMS President with 50.1% of the vote. That number is not just a statistic. It is a diagnosis.
One of our greatest challenges isn’t theological. It’s relational. And the path forward begins not with them changing first but with me.
I got a call this morning and I’m still not quite sure how to process it. A longtime member of our congregation died today. And I know that’s part of this. I know that’s the job, I know I’ve done this more times than I can count, but today just hit different, and I’ve been…
This Father’s Day, there were five pairs of shoes by the door. Nothing remarkable about them, really. Just shoes. Worn. Scuffed. Kicked off without much thought. But when I walked past them, I stopped. Because for the first time in a while, all five pairs were home. As parents, we spend years tripping over shoes….
