Years ago, hitchhiking home through Virginia, I huddled nightly in this huge hoodie.

I still wear it, but in much better company.

Fighting gay marriage like it’s killing civilization seems inconsistent amid cultural curses like adultery, groundless divorce, and pornography—all hetero and legal.

iPowerWeb, if you receive enough complaints about your website that the top feature for logged-in customers assumes they’re frustrated, why not redesign?

Accountability isn’t just weekly meetings with a “partner.”

It also means having friends who’ll punch your face when you need them to.

Me: You wanna be a blogger when you grow up?

Orison: No, I don’t wanna blog. I’m gonna play piano and preach.

If a tragedy left you utterly destitute, would you rather a friend pray for you or give you $200 and a job?

1. Accept every friend request.
2. Leave profile and status blank.
3. Disable wall.
4. Block applications.
5. But don’t quit—then you’d just be plain boring.

When doubting, I’m sometimes nervous to ask God to explain what I wonder. I’m afraid he actually will.

So is that doubt?

Lovely graveyards, like kindly spoken curses, attempt comfort by discrepantly wrapping sadness in beauty.

But I am grateful for the pretty package.

Here I am some three years ago, trying to “teach” Orison to sit up.

The first kid is just for practice, right?

1. She loves Jesus.

2. She likes planting trees and flowers.

3. She laughs like a crazy woman at Orison’s goofiness.

4. She tolerates my goofiness.

5. She grieves Felicity openly.

6. She doesn’t begrudge pregnancy.

7. She reads to Orison.

8. She teaches Orison to sound words out.

9. She knows that discipline is loving.

10. She makes plenty of spaghetti plenty often.

11. She freaks out for cream-filled donuts.

12. She supports me (mostly) in whatever this week’s idea is.

13. She brushes Orison’s teeth more carefully than I do.

14. She’s undecided about how we’ll school our kids.

15. She always puts my hand on her tummy when she’s pregnant.

16. She doesn’t undermine me with Orison even when I’m disappointing.

17. She happily postpones her fantasy minivan.

18. She washes the dishes and picks up all the time.

19. She does our family paperwork perfectly and without complaint.

20. She comes home from errands with presents.

21. She knits us slippers, booties, scarves, sweaters, mittens, socks, and hats.

22. She sings constantly.

1. She loves Jesus.

2. She loves my dad.

3. She’s always happy to see us show up randomly and maybe raid the fridge.

4. She offers advice when asked.

5. She offers advice only when asked.

6. She doesn’t guilt-trip.

7. She loves taking and sharing pictures.

8. She can’t help buying little things for preborn grandkids.

9. She adopted my favorite sister.

10. She prays for us every day.

11. She’s thrifty.

12. She always strives to be a better parent (though she’s as good as they come).

13. She watches Orison at a moment’s notice.

14. She crocheted Felicity a blanket that wouldn’t get used and gave it to us anyway.

15. She’s always on my dad’s side as far as I can tell.

16. She sort of squeals when she finds out about a new grandkid.

17. She doesn’t look down on us when we make decisions she wouldn’t.

18. She corrects my grammar (too strictly sometimes, but oh well).

19. There’s always room for one more at her table.

20. She calls when Orison should quick come over to see the men using chainsaws.

21. She remembers Felicity.

22. She knows adult kids still need a mom.

You simply can’t pay committed employees commensurately.

So treat them like they’re doing you a favor, not like they owe you something.

I don’t talk movies at this blog. I’ll send you somewhere else for that.

With enviable pith, Travis considers 14 upcoming blockbusters.

Some of us should probably wear this sticker on our foreheads as fair warning:

People need to know who they’re dealing with.

Definitions change. No problem.

Meaning is about ideas; it’s not about any specific, pronounceable lists of English letters.

Our lexicon isn’t sacred.

1. STDs
2. Philosophy
3. Freeloading
4. Incarceration
5. Vagabondage
6. Whiskey binges
7. Illegitimate children
8. Pack-a-day smoking
9. Successful rockstardom
10. Getting run over by a train

What’s your list?

Reports comprise indiscriminate detail without any purposeful meaning.

Whereas stories are select details that intentionally influence how you respond.

Here’s a report:

Because of the internet’s democratization, who says something is becoming significantly less important than what is said.

Is this good or bad?

1. Paper flowers.

2. Frame your children’s ultrasound images. (Leave space if Mom wants more.)

3. Transcribe your pre-writer’s happy-mother’s-day note. Include that nonsensical excursus.

Me: What did mama say about Mother’s Day?
Orison: It’s for doing Mommy’s favorite things.

Right. But did she give any specifics?

Yeah. I like bags. What’s it to ya?

Salvation Army, $4.00—How could I resist?

Hey, at least they’re satchels…not purses:

The following chart shows the maximum amount of text users could read during an average visit to pages with different word counts.

-Jakob Nielsen

(click to enlarge)

(via Josh Sowin)

Tactics that make the gospel memorable are worthwhile—if they’re truly for the message, not the messenger.

More at The Evangelical Outpost.

Which theory do you tend toward?

#1. Parents should appear unified for their kids.

#2. Children learn to fight well by seeing it done.