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⚽ Twelve 8-year-olds + 200mg of caffeine + one mortified coach = the best bar story you’ll hear today. Trust us, you want to hear how this ends.
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A late-night traffic stop becomes a reminder: storytelling connects us, grounds us, and makes us known. In a world of strangers, our stories are how we find our way home.
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Grant’s thoughts about purchasing the Toyota snapped away when the officer softly tapped the driver’s side window. “Hello? Can you roll down the window for me, sir?” Grant didn’t realize the young officer was standing next to his door. The lights were blinding and hypnotizing all at the same time. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.” He quickly
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Before I was old enough to read, I told stories. Imagination incubated, spit out into the world through my limited toddler vocabulary. After being taught how to read and write, the magic turned from oral stories to written stories. Now I was writing my own material, reading everything I could to get ideas, even the
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Staring right at me, I thought she would start screaming, yelling at the top of her lungs. Before you start in on me, I just want to set the record straight – I didn’t start this argument. No. Really. I didn’t. It wasn’t my fault. But then again, the guilty always have a way of
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“She said WHAT? Who says that?” “Hold on, they’re sayin’ somethin’ about meat…” “Attention shoppers, we have a special on Chuck roast, three ninety-nine a pound—” “Okay, I’m back. Yeah. Beth straight up tells her the check ain’t good till Monday!” “Lord, Crystal, that’s exactly the kind of mess I got tired of. Nobody in…
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I missed my brother’s miracle because flip-flops annoyed me. Now I celebrate impossible moments everywhere. Who’s waiting for your standing ovation today?
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Made three people completely invisible yesterday. My 8-year-old called me out.
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THREAD 🧵 The Post That Changed Everything David hit “publish” and watched his church world transform. 📱 His post: “Church leaders preach about being the body of Christ, but when your child dies, your marriage crumbles, and COVID steals what’s left, you get three casseroles the first week and two years of silence. Maybe it’s
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Picture this: You push through those church doors and suddenly—”NORM!”—except it’s YOUR name being called with pure joy. I’ve been thinking about Cheers and Jesus lately… What I discovered might surprise you. Because belonging isn’t earned. It’s extended.
Stories. Enjoy!
5 Minute Observations 