Columnist.
My heart was pounding as the miraculous news about our home started to trickle in after Irma stormed across Florida.
Peter Jones is a kind, scholarly man with a charming British accent and delightful sense of humor.
If you've never been through a flood you probably have no idea just how horrific it is.
Summer is filled with anniversaries of life-changing events for me. As I wrote about last week, I met my husband one glorious day in July. But it was also in the summer, now 15 years ago, that I lost my amazing mother to metastasized breast cancer.
Thirty-four years ago this summer, I was fresh out of college and earnestly seeking God's will in my life. My heart was hungry for a godly man of outstanding character.
Tragically, in an age where some people have foolishly "decided" that preborn babies aren't really alive and/or aren't really human, and therefore can be aborted, there are also some people who have foolishly "decided" that boys aren't really boys, and girls aren't really girls.
America, take note: If we demand a society where the government gods provide "free" health care, we will pay for it with our freedom, even by giving up the sacred right to protect our sons and daughters. And we also may be forced one day to sacrifice our own children to the gods.
"A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver" (Proverbs 25:11). This timeless verse states the universal truth that we all need to be reminded of: When we choose our words and our tone wisely, our communication is of great value.
The emails are still coming in about the column I wrote Father's Day week discussing the need for dads to write a love letter to each of their children. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because the chapter of my book "30 Ways in 30 Days to Strengthen Your Family" that has generated the most interest is the one encouraging parents to create a written treasure for their sons and daughters — a treasure they just might keep for the rest of their lives.
Cuba is still a boiling cauldron of brutal persecution. Nearly 10,000 Cuban "dissidents" have been arrested since 2016, and some 1,900 just since January 1st of this year. And every Sunday, "The Ladies in White" — moms, wives, sisters and daughters of political prisoners — dress in white clothes and peacefully pray and call for the release of political prisoners. These brave women and girls are regularly beaten and jailed by the government thugs. When was the last time you heard Barak Obama, Beyoncé, or Michael Moore — who just seem to love the Castro regime — talk about any of that?
Although I've never met Anderson, there's at least one thing we have in common, one truly heartfelt desire that we share: the craving for a father's love.
Although I've never met Anderson, I know there's at least one thing we have in common, one truly heartfelt desire that we share: the craving for a father's love.
Since the Obama administration was determined to change America's social structure, it mattered little that social engineering is not the purpose of the United States' armed forces.
"The Marketing of Evil" is one of the most important books of the last 20 years.
We have a responsibility to "mother" younger women in a way that helps them become better moms.
It's said that the most powerful word in any language is "mother." I believe that's true, not just for the effect we have on our children when they are small, but because mothering never ends.
Minorities crammed into impoverished areas in inner cities should not be having so many babies. And, of course, these minorities (including most of America's immigrants) are inferior in the human race; as are the physically and mentally handicapped.
In his compelling new book, "The True Jesus: Uncovering the Divinity of Christ in the Gospels," David Limbaugh challenges us to examine Christianity's central figure through the words of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John — the men who wrote the first four books of the New Testament.
"There's a jar on the shelf with a little baby in it!" the girl nervously whispered. Several of us were gathered around one of the lab stations in our seventh-grade science class when my wide-eyed classmate revealed her gruesome discovery.
