Roger Bothwell | Devotional
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I love getting free stuff, which attracts me to a furniture commercial which promises if the Boston Red Sox win the first four games of the World Series all the furniture I buy between now and then will be free.  I will get a check...

One of the most wonderful sounds I ever heard was coming home and hearing someone shout, “Daddy’s home” and to hear the thunder of small feet running to me.  The sheer joy of loving and being loved surpasses all other human emotions.  How very empty...

Anyone who has ever spent time as a patient in a hospital knows the medical profession is anti-sleep.  Maybe it’s because the staff that covers the night shift are resentful of anyone who gets to rest.  Last week I was consistently awakened at midnight to...

Springtime in our little city means it’s time to do the annual flushing of the fire hydrants.  It doesn’t make one overly happy if you just washed your car and have to drive through a huge spray of water.  This afternoon I saw people turning...

(Sorry to have not written this past week.  I enjoyed Easter Weekend and the following days in the hospital.  All is well.  Home again.)  While in (“the” for Americans) hospital someone was outside my door with a baby.  Have you ever listened to people talk to...

One of my Christmas presents this year was a port under the skin on my right shoulder.  It was supposed to reduce the number of needle sticks.  Instead of trying to find and missing a vein they just stick the needle into the center of...

I was raised with the idea that one can only love things that are alive.  I really can’t love my car.  But I come really close to love when I think of my GPS.  I am directionally challenged and until I got a GPS I...

It is easy to confuse one’s culture with one’s faith.  Our culture is about customs and socially acceptable practices and behaviors.  Our faith is about our relationship with God and growing and becoming more like one’s God.   Culture is about the way we dress and...

I startled myself today.  As I started to type my eyes went from the screen down to the keyboard and my father’s hands were sticking out from my shirtsleeves.Those were the hands that toiled to care for our family.  Those were the hands that played...

One of the things we discussed this morning in psychology class was pattern recognition.  We looked out the classroom window when a student, a good 85 yards away, was walking on the other side of the quad.  The person was walking away from us so...