An Invitation to Know God

by Wendy Speake | | 3 comments

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I slid the tater tots into the oven as our thirteen-year-old bounded down the stairs. When he saw his dad in the easy chair by the fireplace with a Bible laying open on his lap, he said, “I already did my Bible reading this morning.”

“What did you read?” I asked casually. Asher opened his mouth to answer only to realize that he didn’t actually remember. So he closed his mouth, turned on his heel, and darted back up the stairs to retrieve his Bible from his bedside table. A few minutes later, we were seated together at the kitchen counter, the pages of Exodus 22 splayed open between us.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said. “Look, I wrote in the

Church Wounds

by Wendy Speake | | 3 comments

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My earliest memories of being taught from the Bible include Ruth Gosting. Her flannel board stories were the building blocks of my young faith. Ruth was the director of the children’s ministry at Bel Air Presbyterian Church in the late seventies. On Sunday mornings my friends and I played games, sang the books of the Bible, and listened to Ruth’s Bible stories. She had an animated, high-pitched voice that was full of inflection and wonder. Her eyes were always wide open, as if she were perpetually surprised. Every time she saw me, she exclaimed, “Oh, Wendy, I’m so glad you’re here!” And she was. And so was I.

I loved church because I was loved at church, and the

The Blessing of Reading Through the Bible This Year

by Wendy Speake | | 4 comments

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My grandpa read through the Bible four times before he believed it. Though he attended church during his growing up years, he hadn’t yet put his faith in Christ. Truth be told, the main reason he went to church at all was because, in his own words, “That’s where the pretty girls were.”

All was going according to plan until Grandpa asked the pastor’s daughter out on a date. She asked him, on the spot, if he had put his full faith in Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior. When Grandpa couldn’t say that he had, she told him that she wouldn’t date him, then held to her conviction as he read through the Bible, cover to cover,

Precious Moments in God’s Priceless Word

by Wendy Speake | | 4 comments

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My father gave me a white, leather-bound Precious Moments Bible when I was young. If you weren’t raised in the church in the eighties, you might not know that Precious Moments characters are cartoon-like drawings and porcelain figurines of little children in various poses, always with a Bible verse communicating the main theme of the scene. I had half a dozen of these statuettes atop my bedroom dresser. My Precious Moments Bible was filled with darling pictures, and I loved it with all my little-girl heart.

While the gift was from my dad, who took me to church on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, I don’t actually have memories of opening that Bible with him. No one in my

Wholly, Holey, Holy

by Wendy Speake | | 4 comments

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My eighteen-year-old son found me in the kitchen with my hands in the sudsy sink and my mind bubbling with deep thoughts.

“Mom,” the man-child began, “I understand the idea of the God-shaped hole inside every person. I’ve heard so many pastors talk about it. I get it and I agree. Inside each person is a place that only Jesus can fill. Only He can satisfy. But if I’ve already accepted Jesus, why am I still so hungry? I turn to so many things that aren’t good or godly to fill my hungry. How can that be if I’ve invited Christ to fill that God-shaped empty place?”

I turned off the steaming faucet water and dried my hands, then walked