If you had asked me when I graduated high school if I wanted to be a podcaster, I would have had no idea what you were talking about. I don’t think I even listened to a podcast for the first time until after I graduated from college, and yet here I am, fifty episodes deepContinue reading “The Birth of Exempla”
Tag Archives: memories
Accidental First Date (replay)
Sitting in the bleachers, I’m beginning to think I’ll be watching the game alone. That’s ok, I guess, but I didn’t really come to see the game. It’s not that I don’t like basketball. Basketball’s fine. But there’s a reason that junior-high girls basketball doesn’t air on prime time TV. Please understand, junior-high girls’ basketballContinue reading “Accidental First Date (replay)”
Running to Daddy
I’ve always said we would never get a trampoline. I’ve heard too many stories of people breaking bones, or spraining ankles, or cracking their heads open while jumping on a trampoline. Don’t get me wrong, I bear no ill will toward people who have trampolines, I just wasn’t interested. We had at least twice whenContinue reading “Running to Daddy”
Just Another Faithful Preacher
I was thirteen years old when my family first visited Good News Baptist Church. The Army had just moved us to Virginia and we were trying to determine what church to join. I remember a couple of things about that first visit. I remember how friendly the people were. We were welcomed warmly almost asContinue reading “Just Another Faithful Preacher”
The Worst Birthday Ever
My seventh birthday is probably my most memorable birthday ever. But it’s highly memorable… for all the wrong reasons. I grew up in a military home. My dad was in the Army, which meant we usually moved every two or three years. There was a fun side to that. We got to see different areasContinue reading “The Worst Birthday Ever”
Ode to a Small Yellow House
It’s a strange feeling—going back to a place after not being there for a long time. Sometimes, the place has changed. Sometimes, you’ve changed. Sometimes, it’s a little of both. It feels like you’re meeting a stranger, but somehow it’s a stranger you’ve known for a very long time. That’s how I felt last May,Continue reading “Ode to a Small Yellow House”
Exempla 