WEEKLY DEVOS

I filled my car with gas and sauntered toward the convenience store to pay for my purchase. As I approached the door, I was taken aback by a young woman crouched in front of the glass entrance door. Turned out she was negotiating through the glass with her...

As a kid, I lived on Fairfield County’s version of Walton’s Mountain. Our green-shingled home with its gambrel roof proudly overlooked pastoral vistas in all directions. Three out of four seasons, we cast our vision like royalty over kingdoms below. But when the...

I thought it was an ad for a lousy radio station—you know, that white oval on the rear window of SUVs that simply says “26.2”? That doesn’t even come in on my dial. So then I reasoned it might be a secret number for a clandestine society.  Once, seeing a young person...

My maternal grandparents lived on the northeast corner of Kanawha and East Main in Lancaster during the 1950’s. It was a huge duplex that sat where Fifth Third Bank is today. Each year on Christmas Eve, like many families, we gathered at Grandma’s with our aunts,...

When I was kid, the only bathroom in our house was an afterthought tucked under the back porch in the corner of our basement. Like a fall-out shelter, it was constructed entirely of concrete. Even the tub was molded of concrete; years of pockmarked paint gave it the...

It’s incredible how much syrup can ooze out of a flat screen TV. My wonderful wife Marilyn loves sappy Christmas movies, and apparently there are countless variations of the same predictable plot: Girl has shallow boyfriend, girl goes home for Christmas, girl endures...