Strangely Dim - Crosswalk the Devotional - August 14

Truths observed at the intersection of faith and life by Crosswalk.com editors [Crosswalk.com Logo]( Crosswalk: The Devotional [Devotionals]( [Newsletters]( [e-Cards]( Strangely Dim by John UpChurch Four crumbling stairs leading up the hill from the rock-encrusted sidewalk—that’s all that’s left. If you drove by today, you wouldn’t know that I once smashed honey bees on the driveway with a shovel, or that I did so barefooted until one got a squishy revenge. You also wouldn’t know about the loft in the garage where my brothers would hide away or the window in my room that thieves peeked through before they stole our bikes. You’d never see the stairs leading out the back door where my mom would sit while we brought her giant grasshoppers to examine or plums from the fruit trees. You see, I had this idea that one day, when I got the chance, I’d take my wife and girls to Marion, Alabama. I’d show them the house where I spent the first five years of my life, regaling them with stories about the giant heating grate in the middle of the hall that my brother used as a bathroom while sleepwalking, and the stove fire that sent my dad to the hospital, and the small square pond with goldfish that our landlady’s cat loved to eat. But I can’t—at least, not the way I intended. My oldest brother dashed this plan by posting a Google Street View image. The two neighboring houses still stand. Ours is gone. Completely. Considering the size of the trees that now play the stand-in role, I’m guessing the house disappeared years ago (given our experience with electrical issues there, probably in a blaze of glory). I’ve been told by [movies]( and books that I can’t go home again, and this sad image of an empty lot does make a pretty good case for that. But that house—no matter the memories of watching PBS in the living room or music blaring from my brothers’ stereo—that house was never my home, not really. Nor is the house where I spent most of my youth, nor is the place I live now. Seeing an empty lot reminded me how easily the things here on earth disappear. One moment you’re settling into a comfortable Alabama life; the next you’re suddenly uprooted for Tennessee. And when you look back, all that’s left is in your head. Intersecting [Faith]( & Life: When I saw the empty lot in Marion, it reminded me of an old song that I’ve never really liked. I know I’m supposed to because it’s a classic and all. But I don’t. I do admit that it makes a ton of sense: [CONTINUE READING →]( You May Also Like: [5 Lies Every Divorced Woman Needs to Stop Believing]( Jen Grice As we wade through the pain and the legal process, we need to know the difference between truth and lies. Here are 5 lies you need to stop believing as you go through divorce… [CONTINUE READING →]( [10 Things Everyone Should Know about Jehovah's Witnesses and Their Beliefs]( Veronica Neffinger We answer the questions of how they got their start, what their core beliefs are, and how many people ascribe to this faith in the world today below. [CONTINUE READING →](                       Bible Trivia Question of the Day                                       `Therefore take no thought, saying, what shall we _____? or, what shall we _____? or, wherewithal shall we be _____? (Matthew 6:31). A. Eat, drink, clothed B. Eat, drink, merry C. Eat, wear, housed D. Eat, wear, adorned [ANSWER THE QUESTION →]( [Crosswalk.com Logo]( [Read about Salem Web Network]( | [Unsubscribe]( [Email Preference Center]( | [View in Browser]( © 2021 Salem Web Network. All rights reserved. 111 Virginia Street, Suite 200, Richmond, VA 23219. This email is never sent unsolicited. You are receiving this email because your email address, {EMAIL}, is signed up to receive newsletters, updates, and special offers from Crosswalk.com - The Devotional. [Link](