There are moments when words feel almost intrusive ... when speaking at all, risks diminishing what has been lost. The killing of ten people at a school in the small community of Tumbler Ridge is one of those moments. In a place where lives are closely woven, the grief is not abstract; it moves through families, classrooms, and daily routines that will never quite return to what they were. I have no answers to offer. I do not believe this kind of loss yields to explanation, a
Every once in a while doubt arises, usually with a raised eyebrow and a tired sigh: What if we made it all up? What if Jesus is a beautifully crafted myth ... an ancient con job, polished by centuries of repetition? It’s a fair question. Healthy even. Faith that can’t survive honest daylight isn’t faith; it’s superstition with better manners. But here’s the thing. When you actually look at the story we’re supposedly accusing of being fabricated, it behaves very badly for a li
THE SLOW TURNING HOME There comes a time when your heart grows still enough to hear its own footsteps. A time when the long shadows of struggle and sorrow stretch across your path, and you finally see how far you’ve wandered from the place you meant to be. Not all at once ... never all at once ... but slowly, through bruised hopes, through quiet disappointments, through the small calamities that shake loose the truth. And there, in the middle of your life, you pause. You feel
