ncurrin

For better, or for worse (probably for worse if we’re being honest) human beings are deeply jealous creatures.

I have a notoriously substandard sense of direction. This always distresses my dad, a Navy submariner who is gifted with an internal GPS.

As Julia Tulloch so cleverly put it last week, we are no longer mere Easter People, but Pentecost People.

Pentecost! The birthday of the church! Pentecost! That day when nothing happened. Until everything happened.

I am naturally optimistic. Still, when we arrived at General Conference two weeks ago, I felt a sense of dread climbing up my spine.