It’s Thanksgiving, and I am home for a short but rich holiday with family, lots of food, and good friends. God has blessed me abundantly, and at times like this, it comes naturally to say thank you. I’ve never known real want, though, so it is easy for me to take all this richness for granted. […]
A reader from Ontario sent this picture and quote, and said if I wanted to, I could share them with you. I wanted to. So I did.
Because I am interested in history—and particularly the history of oppressed people groups—my ears always perk when my friend and fellow writer Shel Pais starts talking about his dad, a Holocaust survivor. “His story is part of who I am today,” Shel wrote to me once. In this post, he’s agreed to share part of
The Pickle Story: Sometimes the Smallest Decisions Have Major Impact Read More »
Well, as life goes, I’ve been swept up and whisked away again. I missed posting last week altogether—but busy or no, I’ve had a good two weeks. I am slowly acclimating to the life of a student, and even working in—at a scaled-back level—some of my own writing projects. Today…ahem…I begin a new tradition. Every
I clasp the hands of God, Then break away to run shrieking Across the fields of Rusk County. He catches me easily, And we laugh. He holds me tight As I struggle against his arms. Tossing me across his shoulders, We watch the setting sun. “Please, God, could we, If it works with
I Clasp the Hands of God Read More »
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