Always Burning

The Hope of the Christian in Times of Unrest

One weekend recently, I made the seemingly simple decision to go to a chain store to shop for a swimsuit.

"Oh, wait," my husband said, and pulled out his cell phone. "Okay, so you shouldn't go to the one on State Street, because that's where the protestors are tonight."

No problem. There's another one. I got in the car. My husband appeared at the door to the garage, holding up one finger while again looking at his phone. "Don't take North Main, either," he warned. "There was just a shooting there."

Good grief, I thought to myself. This is getting ridiculous. But I complied, made it to the store, parked, and started walking in.

That's when I...