Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, to the saints who are in Ephesus, and are faithful in Christ Jesus: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. (Ephesians 1:1-2 ESV) Letters in the Greco-Roman world were addressed differently
(No, this isn’t a post about swearing. Though that’s probably not a great idea either.) A few years ago, my kids and I were listening to a sermon, and it wasn’t going well. The preacher was preaching on Genesis 1, and he was throwing a lot of
I love Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. My love affair with this book started in January 1995, when as a bright-eyed college freshman, I took an upper level January term class on Ephesians. If I recall correctly, there were only about 8 of us in the class. For four
If your interview process is any good, you’ll find out soon enough if they have the coding and problem solving skills to do the job. I care more about your eagerness to learn and your ability to get things done and whether you’re a decent human being than the major you chose in college.
Two years ago, I was tasked with designing an engagement tracking system. My boss suggested that I look at building it in Go. There was just one problem. I had never used Go. I needed to get up to speed quickly.
If I made it a habit to go to the gym every day and hit the weights, I have no doubt I’d see progress. But I haven’t. Because a simple rule of life gets in my way: If I don’t put in the reps, I won’t make progress.
"Apropos of Nothing" is a semi-regular feature (I'm still figuring out my publishing cadence) that will talk about cool articles I've read, what books I'm reading, good music, random musings, publications I have coming out - you get the idea.
The Anxious Generation is one of those books I wish I had read fifteen years ago. It would have changed so much about the way I parented my kids, now ranging in age from 25 to 16.
My friend Nathan looked my in the eye and said, “It matters to us.” And then he wrapped me in an enormous bearhug. It nearly brought me to tears (the gesture, not the bearhug itself). Thinking back upon it now, I find myself tearing up a little.