Some months ago, I had had a rough day. I can’t remember the specifics, but by the time I crawled into bed that night I didn’t have much left. Thankfully though, I married well. Turning to Josh I asked him to pray for me. “I’m feeling discouraged,” I explained. 

At least he's terribly handsome.

At least he’s terribly handsome.

He did. And what followed will surely go down in Hall folklore forever.

“Lord, I pray for Hannah tonight. I pray she would have peace about her decisions and wisdom in her…”

He paused for a moment. I waited. He continued.

“For the two kind she was with Karen when horses had the middle run…”

He paused again, while my mind feverishly attempted to untangle what in the blazes he had just prayed for me.

The silence lasted only matter of seconds, but it was long enough to me to determine that he was either 1.) so deeply spiritual that I couldn’t understand his thoughts anymore or 2.) having a stroke. Fortunately, he spoke up.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, “I think I just fell asleep for a minute there.”

I love the memory. He was trying so hard to be a good husband, but sleep absolutely won out. And though I have little doubt that what he said made perfect sense within the context of the dream he had slipped so quickly into, for me, still existing in reality, they were nonsense words.

Utter and complete (and hilarious) nonsense words.


I try not to get caught up in culture wars. I have my personal stances, which you no doubt have gathered a few of if you’ve read this blog very long, but unless something is terribly important, I try not take my time (or yours) writing about it.

However, I couldn’t help feeling a little riled at the Super Bowl this Sunday. Here’s why. Did you notice this?


“Believe In Love” it says. 

I checked, there are some on the internet purporting an overtly political message behind the phrase. They’re either crying foul or crying hooray depending on where they fall on certain issues.

As for me, I’m not really concerned with analyzing what the motive was behind it. Rather, I’m annoyed. (I try not to be publicly annoyed. It’s not very attractive.) But in this case, I will let my irritation show. Because there is little that bugs me more than Nonsense that tries to dress itself up as Truth.


My new cell phone has been suggesting that I ask it to define “love” for weeks, so finally, I relented. “Okay, Google. Define love.”

Love: an intense feeling of deep affection.

So, according to Beyoncé and Coldplay and Mr. Mars in the black plastic pajamas, we should “believe in an intense feeling of deep affection.” Deep affection for what, I ask?  For football? Maybe for Doritos? For pjs that double as a dance costume? What?  

Or was the message of the halftime show that you and I should believe in whatever we think love is because it doesn’t really matter if what we think is wrong or not at all true as long as we believe it? Because we all know that believing in something is all it takes to make it real, right?

You know, like Santa or fairies.


I’ll just say it: “Believe in Love” is baloney. It means nothing. It is random words strung together; a gobbledygooked mishmash as ridiculous as whatever Karen and her horses were up to above. 

In short, it’s utter and complete nonsense.

I beg you, don’t buy into it.

Don’t buy into the lie that we each can believe whatever we want to believe and that makes it truth. There is Truth and it’s pretty plain:

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me” (John 14:1).

Believe in God.

Not in our own version of God, but the one true God. The God revealed to us in the Bible. The God reconciled to us by Jesus. The God welcomed into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.

Don’t believe in love.

Believe in the God who loves you.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).  

There, I said it.

Now, someone explain those plastic pants to me, please.