Author: Paul Armstrong

I’m faced with the dilemma of needing, or at least feeling the pull, to confront some friends on what directions their lives seem to be ever falling toward. I’m partly angry at the church. For not knowing it’s own members. For not seeking, praying and truly getting the “right” people to head certain ministries. But…

There is a sweet smell of milk to his breath when he wakes in the morning. He’ll grab my neck and suck his thumb and look deep into my eyes whispering through his gaze that I am his daddy. It’s not often that I realize how significant this is. I imagine God longs for the…

It’s the start of something new. Everyday I suppose. Life will never cease to move, and I’m becoming more at ease with the ride. Today I feel like I’m a closet. Closed and concealed in the dark, waiting for time, for purpose, for usefulness. A clutter of old things I’ll never use or wear. Piles…