My name is Nana, at least to one very small person. My granddaughter is almost eighteen months old, and she loves to color. If you ask her if she wants to color, the answer is always an enthusiastic nod and wiggle, arms in the air, waiting for me to carry her to the drawer where the crayons live.

I recently re-read Madeleine L’Engle’s classic youth novel A Wrinkle in Time. I’m not sure how long it had been since I last read it, but I know I loved it when I was younger; I read it more than once. This time, I picked it up again because I was in a time-traveling mood (I’m a big sci-fi fan and time-travel is always a good ride). I thought it would be a light escape from the chaos of our current reality. Instead, I found something profoundly relevant.

I could tell you that I grew up going to church and that’s how I came to be where I am, but that would only be a tiny part of my faith story.

Sure, I can say I was about five years old when I asked Jesus to come into my heart, but I didn’t tell anyone I had done that. Over the next decade, I probably got “saved” a whole bunch of times…

Asking if you have any dreams feels a bit like asking if you're human. We all carry dreams and aspirations that call to us from the deepest parts of our souls. But how do those dreams come to life?

Lately I’ve been saying, “I’m okay,” but honestly, I’m not really okay. With everything going on in the world right now, it’s no surprise that many of you have told me you’re feeling the same way. Somehow, though, we still have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and…