Today's church has become as diverse and segmented as the society and culture around us. Still, we continue to struggle to find ways to remain relevant.
In his latest book, Dave Zuchelli helps us take a look at the oddities of life through the eyes of the Scriptures. It's a trek, but it's a journey well worth making (and it will only take 99 days).
Dave Zuchelli is a man of extremes. He laughs until he cries (or worse). He rides a Harley. He loves with a passion, and he preaches like there's no tomorrow.
Dave holds degrees from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania and Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. He currently resides in Aldie, VA.
He's married to a wonderful young woman named Denise, and between them, they have four children and several grandchildren.
He recently retired from the pastorate to spend more time teaching and writing.
If you'd like to know a little more, please check out his website, PulpitMan.com. Dave is available to speak at your event and may be reached through the contact page of this site.
My Mom loved to play Canasta, but I don't think she ever knew what the word meant. I'm not totally sure she cared, either. Regardless, Canasta was a blood sport in our home.
We were all about games. We grew up in a small neighborhood that was several miles from town. So, it was either play games or be dreadfully bored. We became quite proficient at many of them--Canasta included. It was a long time before I understood the true meaning of the word.
No Ninos en la Canasta
I think the first thing that caught my attention was the word “canasta.” I’m aware of that word because it’s the name of a card game my Mom taught us when we were kids. It seems to be a variety of rummy in which you combine about thirty-seven regular decks of cards, pass them out to the contestants, play one hand all day, and pretend like it’s a barrel of laughs. In our home, however, we were out for blood, so actual fun was not the goal of the competition. Because of that, I always assumed canasta was Italian for “backstabber.”