There’s just something about Oxford after it rains. I noticed it a few weeks ago while walking down High Street toward the bridge. You’re not allowed to be a building on that street unless you’re at least 200 years old, and most are older. So the stone, accustomed to being pelted and worn by this insane island weather, reflects the sun so brightly after a rain I have to squint in order to make out the shape of one of the old college’s spires or the tower of St. Mary’s…
I've written a book I would love to share with you. English Lessons is the story of a girl, a year in Oxford, and a God who was much bigger than I expected him to be. Want to join the journey?
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The journey of a changing faith and an unchanging God—and why growing up starts with realizing just how small we are.