Becoming Elisabeth Elliot (Book Review)
When I was a child, my mother passed along to me a deep appreciation for the life story and writings of Elisabeth Elliot. As a
ARTICLES BY COLLEEN CHAO
When I was a child, my mother passed along to me a deep appreciation for the life story and writings of Elisabeth Elliot. As a
Singleness is a long hike up a steep hill. Chances are, you’re either on the hike yourself or you know someone who is. Everyone has
We met when we were gangly 8- and 9-year-old girls. Our small church and a mutual love for rollerskating were the only bonds we needed to
Seven years ago I sat in a coffee shop, looking across the table at a handsome man named Eddie. He was not quite a stranger
As a young teen, I read her books and articles with a voracious appetite for her wisdom. When I was 20, I attended one of
I was 31 and it was Christmas Eve when we had The Talk. Everyone thought we were the perfect match. So even though I put on a
I bet you’re waiting for something right now. And I don’t mean the traffic light to change or the water pot to boil. I mean,
If we could sit on a sunny patio and chat leisurely over iced coffees tomorrow, I’d want to ask you, “What’s the best part and
This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber of your being you long to be a mom. You
He was old when the promise came, and it pierced through a lifetime of hope deferred. It was an unreasonable promise, laughable at best. (Both
When I was a child, my mother passed along to me a deep appreciation for
Singleness is a long hike up a steep hill. Chances are, you’re either on the
We met when we were gangly 8- and 9-year-old girls. Our small church and a mutual
Seven years ago I sat in a coffee shop, looking across the table at a
As a young teen, I read her books and articles with a voracious appetite for
I was 31 and it was Christmas Eve when we had The Talk. Everyone thought we were
I bet you’re waiting for something right now. And I don’t mean the traffic light
If we could sit on a sunny patio and chat leisurely over iced coffees tomorrow,
This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber
He was old when the promise came, and it pierced through a lifetime of hope