ARTICLES BY COLLEEN CHAO
Dear Younger Self—I know it’s cliché,But I would go back if I couldTo say: Make yourself small,Don’t resent being weak—Humility before GodWill set you free. Practice his presence:Listen and rest—A quieted heartHears his voice best. Don’t go it alone.Seek wisdom to knowWho to keep closeAnd
Before the foundations of the world were laid, you saw me and knew me and knew my days. You had already determined the era of history, down to the very environment, I would live in. You knew that I would enter a toxic world, a
As the new year dawns, none of us has any idea what lies ahead. Many of our days will unfold quite differently from how we’ve planned them, and we will be reminded of how little we actually control in this life. But for the child
Think of that wonderful truth that God came here in human flesh and blood, and…died a cruel death upon the tree. Turn that over and over again… Think over all the details of it; accustom yourself to look towards God in Christ Jesus in your
If you’re like me, your calendar was hemorrhaging long before the holidays showed up. In fact, the pace we keep is a cultural phenomenon of sorts—one that most of us aren’t equipped to handle well. Our ever-present phones make us daily, instantaneously available to hundreds,
I was 25 years old when I scored my dream job—working as an editor on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. After growing up in California, I fell head-over-heels in love with the East Coast and decided I’d stay put. Until I landed in the ER at
I penned this almost eight years ago in the midst of a desperate season, when I was hungry for the Word and a quiet space to process my hurting heart. A small booth in the back corner of Panera Bread became my sweet refuge that
My life is a story of God being with me. I can point to time after time when He broke in on my darkness, when He rescued me from my own stupidity, when He brought His words to a rolling boil to melt my hardened heart. I’ve
I’m exhausted. To the marrow of my bones, I am spent and weary. A few days ago, I drove up a winding hill, fresh after fall’s first storm, alone in my car; and the tears started. They were longing to spill out before Him, to
Before my son was born, I had enough parenting ideals to create my own currency. I remember saying things like, “We’re not going to work our lives around our children; they’re going to work around us,” and “I will never let my child do that.”
Dear Younger Self—I know it’s cliché,But I would go back if I couldTo say: Make
Before the foundations of the world were laid, you saw me and knew me and
Think of that wonderful truth that God came here in human flesh and blood, and…died
If you’re like me, your calendar was hemorrhaging long before the holidays showed up. In
I was 25 years old when I scored my dream job—working as an editor on
I penned this almost eight years ago in the midst of a desperate season, when
I’m exhausted. To the marrow of my bones, I am spent and weary. A few
Before my son was born, I had enough parenting ideals to create my own currency.
