by tim walker i never thought i would live past 30. call it a romanticized notion. i was a moody john hughes anti-hero. a misunderstood,
by tim walker if you’ve watched a lot of movies, or even the evening news, you know this truth . . . escapes are hard.
i don’t have a monopoly on words. i realize that i’m not the only writer in the world. there was a time when that immobilized
i’ve always had a wicked tongue. i can slice and dice with the best of them. i’m not physically strong, but i can hold my
an expensive night at the ER. a car that’s in the shop for yet another repair. looming big expenses in the next few months that
400 years. that’s how long God was silent between the Old and New Testament. the last thing anyone heard from God was through the prophet
sometimes i envy people who can’t speak. not the ones who are afraid to talk in front of others. i envy the mute. i envision
when it comes to movies, i handed in my man card a long time ago. while many guys i know include movies like Gladiator and
there’s more than one way to get to where you need to go. it’s why i don’t just look up directions on the maps app
“In this world you will have trouble . . .” Jesus said those words to His disciples, in John 16:33. and thousands of years later,
somewhere in my 40s, i’ve lost something. not my vision—even though i can’t read small print. or my waistline—it’s there somewhere. no, i lost something