Shel Silverstein is an American poet. He is best known for his poem “The Giving Tree.” But he has another poem which is particularly meaningful… Read More »Flux: Where the Sidewalk Ends (Jer. 1:1-5) Chris Altrock – 1/4/15
In the 1990’s, an author named Richard Preston wrote a book entitled Hot Zone. It was a based-on-true-life story that focused on viruses like Ebola. The book was one of the first popular-level novels to cover the impact of Ebola. It was subtitled: “The Terrifying True Story of the Origins of the Ebola Virus.”
The book was called Hot Zone because that term is often used in the medical world. It describes an area where there are biological dangers.
And unfortunately, we’ve seen a massive reoccurrence of that “hot zone” in the past few weeks. In the latest outbreak, there have been over 13,000 cases of Ebola and almost 5,000 deaths in places like Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia.[1] The 2014 Ebola epidemic is the largest in history.[2] It’s a hot zone that terrifies those of us who see it from a distance. And it is a hot zone that is tormenting those caught up in it.Read More »Monday Morning Faith: Flourishing in the Hot Zone (Jer. 17:5-8) Chris Altrock – 11/9/14
I was once in a parade.
I’ve watched many parades. But one time I was actually in a parade. It was an experience I will never forget.
As I have shared with you before, I grew up in a small rural town called Cloudcroft. When I was a boy, there were no parades in Cloudcroft. They now have a Christmas parade and a Fourth of July parade. They even have an Outhouse race. But when I was a child, they had no parades. I lived in town without parades.
Can you imagine a world with no parades? Read More »Monday Morning Faith: The Parade of Orphans (Ps. 68) Chris Altrock – 11/2/14
Sports have been an important part of my life. I played sports in junior high and high school. Our kids have played on recreational, competitive, and school teams. And our family enjoys watching sporting events.
One of my favorite memories as a teenager has to do with sports. It happened in the 1,600 meter relay at the single-A New Mexico State Track Meet in 1985. The track meet was hours off-schedule by the start of the 1,600 meter relay, the final race at the met. It was so late that many competitors and fans had already left. The rest of our track team had disappeared to find a late dinner in a nearby restaurant. But our four-man relay team remained. We had worked all year for this race. Perfecting our handoffs. Decreasing our individual times. This race would be the culmination of countless hours of training. In fact, it was the culmination of the last two years that our team had trained together.
The starting gun finally sounded, and the four of us ran with all we had. When the finish line was crossed, we took second place—barely beaten by the one team that had barely beaten us in every track meet that year. We consoled ourselves with second place, and began taking our spikes off. Then, an official approached us.Read More »Monday Morning Faith: Becoming a Monday Morning Quarterback (1 Cor. 9:24-27) Chris Altrock – 10/19/14