The Two Kinds of Heretics
Donald Miller
By Donald Miller

For centuries the term heretic has been thrown around as an ace card by theologians and pastors and, lets face it, twenty something seminarians as though the term should stop us in our tracks.

The older I get, though, the more I see the term being used to defend territories of thought rather than to truly protect us from misguided interpretations of scripture. It’s become a term tribes use to defend their tribal security.

Why Dreaming Sometimes Leads to Discontentment
Andrea Lucado
By Andrea Lucado

I was that kid who climbed a tree one day with a pillow in one hand and a book in the other so I could sit on the branch more comfortably to read. I would lie–not jump–on my trampoline alone and stare at the sky and think whatever important thoughts I had at age nine. I had what my mom called “an active imagination” and I exercised this muscle often. I would catch myself daydreaming in class all the time. Listening to a sermon was nearly impossible. Over the course of those 20 minutes my head had been in so many different places I would worry I had been talking aloud during church.

I think an active imagination is a wonderful thing. Stories and characters and made up games and alternate universes – that’s the good stuff. It’s why fiction writers are my heroes. And there are moments when daydreaming is great and propels us forward in our lives, like when we take our dreams and write them down and figure out a way we could actually achieve them. But I don’t tend to be productive in my daydreaming, and I’ve realized once I return from my time in space, I’m less content.

View Suffering This Way to Change the World
John Richmond
By John Richmond

I get to meet human trafficking victims on a regular basis and hear their stories. These modern day slaves share powerful and painful accounts of the challenges they must overcome as they shift from being victims to being survivors. Here is the story of a slave I never met.

M. was a teenage boy who was abducted from his hometown by a group for foreign men that preyed on the vulnerable. Like cargo, he was loaded on a ship and taken to a land not his own. There, a wealthy landowner forced him to work on a farm taking care of the livestock. M. was alone, exhausted and powerless. As the years of forced labor passed, he embraced the faith of his parents . . . a faith he had long ignored.