Imani knew there was more than the darkness of her mother's womb. There come days, however, that swallow up even the surest hope. Can we reverse the grip of darkness?
O’er parched and sandy earth where sun has killed All but the most resilient weeds, where spear- Like winds hurl dust and wolves loom nigh and jeer, A flock trails near its shepherd wise and skilled And follows him despite hope unfulfilled. Through mountain passes narrow, rocky, sheer, Where enemies from hidden lairs peer, He … Continue reading Onward Pressed
You wake up early and lug your luggage downstairs to wait for your Uber driver. Mild anxiety hangs in the air like the smell of last night's burnt coffee. Will he arrive? Almost to the minute of his scheduled arrival at 6:20, he pulls up in his new white CRV and helps you load your … Continue reading The God of Gate H1
On the one hand, I write stories because a force as strong and as invisible as the wind compels me to. That's not the only reason though. For me, stories are not solid walls we stare at for the sake of admiring the wallpaper. They're windows through which we might glimpse the beauty on the … Continue reading Why I Write
"Sing, sparrows, sing, for God's good varied grace!" We are so well provided for.
I was going to get to drive Marvin again, and I was more than a little excited. Yes, Laura and I name our cars. Marvin is the gray Toyota Matrix we owned when we lived in Minneapolis that we bequeathed to Laura's mom after getting that wild hair over four years ago to move to … Continue reading On Wanting to Cry at the Eye Doctor’s
It was our final leg, and we were finally sitting on the plane. Chicago to Minneapolis. OK. We can do this. The last time we had gotten decent sleep—"decent" being defined as eight hours in a horizontal position with our heads on a pillow—was Monday night. In the time zone of our departure, it was Thursday morning.