Just the other day, I learned that a good friend of mine does not own a garage door opener.
O, what a lucky man he is.
Just the other day, I learned that a good friend of mine does not own a garage door opener.
O, what a lucky man he is.
A bit of a mystery has begun to grow on our front porch.
I’ve noticed that I tend to look away whenever I’m donating blood.
Even the finger-prick at the start, to check my hemoglobin: The process may be relatively painless, but it’s just something I’d prefer not to see.
Strange fish, the leafy seadragon. It can’t seem to make up its mind: plant or animal?
Feathers were flying all about our patio a few days ago – an oddity, to be sure. And the mystery, sadly, did not end well.
When it comes to home improvement projects, I follow an ironclad philosophy: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
What’s up with dinosaurs, anyway?
Golf may perhaps be more than a game – at least in the case of my weak-willed spirit.
For golf, it seems, has a way of teaching me about certain spiritual defects, such as vanity.
Just about this time every year, I find myself reflecting on the fact that I have something of a soul brother in Nicodemus.