For Carrie Martens, a student at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary, Elkhart, Ind., using a prayer book like Take Our Moments and Our Days helps her feel “connected to God, to Scripture and the greater Christian community. . . . It has helped me pray in ways that are meaningful and with words that express my faith journey,” she says gratefully.
A deep love for aboriginal communities in Manitoba inspired Jake and Margaret Harms to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary this past summer by honouring others. In lieu of gifts, they invited friends and family to contribute to Mennonite Church Canada Native Ministry.
Fort Benning, Georgia—the home of the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation, formerly the School of the Americas—is also the home of annual peace protests each November.
Three Waterloo Region Mennonites—Nathan Gorvett, Josie Winterfeld and Richard Albrecht—took part in the 2010 protest, which stretched over a three-day weekend.
Many of us like being rich. Moreover, many of us, myself included, like to be seen as being rich. And this, it seems, is contrary to the gospel of Jesus, who preached “woe to the rich,” and “blessed are the poor.” He also warned of leaders in “flowing robes” who liked to sit in places of honour (Luke 20:46).
Human ingenuity cranks out things that are windows into the heart of the age. Our technological dreamworks become tools of convenience, toys of amusement, gadgets of annoyance, and objects of idolatry. Since Babel, every epoch has had its technological metaphor. The great tower of Genesis 11 betrayed humanity’s cultural self-understanding.
Jane’s nightmares kept her from getting a good night’s sleep. “They are just terrifying,” she told her doctor. “I wake up almost every night. It’s like someone is suffocating me—like a body lying on top of me—I’m holding my breath—just shaking with fear!”
“I think we can help with that,” said Dr. Shenk. “Let’s try this new sleep medication to see if that helps.”
Every morning I look in the mirror and do not know who might be looking back at me. I wonder what the day will hold. Will it be a day of relative calm? Or will it be a day when my voice becomes higher-pitched, and my speech speeds up, gushing out of me in staccato fashion while my mind tries to keep up with the ideas that come rushing in?