I’ve settled on an alternate way to interpret Loki’s character. I’ve decided that Loki’s genius is that none of it is illusion. It’s all real. His disdain for Thor, real. His love for Thor, real. His desperate need for Odin’s approval, real. His disregard for his father, real. His self-sacrifice, real. His self-serving nature, real. His arrogance, his bravado, his penitence, his pain, it’s all real. Loki is the ultimate trickster because he believes every one of his own illusions. He’s not deceiving others so much as he lets his heart deceive himself. Loki’s the most complex character I’ve ever seen in a superhero film (although Robert Downey, Jr.’s Iron Man ranks an exceedingly close second)."Gospel-Centered Sex?":
So what am I saying? Men need to do better? If they want more sex, here’s the formula? I bet a lot of men would like a formula—10 ways to serve your wife that will make her want to give you more sex. I could write that book and I bet it would be a best seller. I could call it The Proverbs 32 Man. But it would not be the gospel, or the solution to an unhealthy sex life. It would be a list of requirements that he could not fulfill or a manipulative formula that feeds selfishness. It would be just as unproductive as commanding a wife to go home, get over herself, and give her husband more sex."Breakfast on the Beach":
Was Peter tempted, after his spectacular denial of Christ recorded in all four gospels, to hide under a rock? To say, “No, I can’t.” Can’t go back. Can’t face the Church, with its knowing eyes and long memory? He must have been. Yet his love for his fellow disciples was strong enough that when all was lost, he climbed back in the boat with them to do what they knew best. And his love for Jesus was strong enough that just a glimpse of the Lord across misty dawn waters and the shadow of a miserable night made him forget all that had gone before. All the failure, all the shame. This devastating love of Peter’s is the foundation of the Church."A Bittersweet Adoption Story":
Less than two months after Alice’s arrival, Katie gave birth to our son Edmund. It was a traumatic delivery where Katie, again, hemorrhaged and nearly died. I got yet another two weeks paid leave for Edmund’s birth, and we needed it. He was colicky and not sleeping well. Katie was weak and sick. And, with Edmund’s arrival, we now had four children ages two and under. We were barely able to stay afloat with laundry, meals, and sleep."Explaining Silence":
It wasn’t shame or fear or guilt or grief that kept my mouth shut most days. The people in my life I most wanted to tell – my parents, my brother – would have to grieve if I told them. They’d have to go through a version of what I did, because family is connected. I might be able to find peace with not being a mother (and I genuinely did, years later), but I wasn’t willing to foist that process upon someone else.