By the time you read this, Laura and I will be somewhere in the middle of a 26 hour plane ride to the other side of this ol' world of ours. Even as we leave so many family members and friends behind, we don't leave without hope, hope so many of you instilled within us, and we're grateful.
"We sat in our pajamas on the couch under a blanket and did what you do on Sunday nights. We watched a rerun of Columbo." And something about it made me worship.
How good it was to listen to the doctor's Detailed overview of all that she had done Because she'd started the conversation with "Everything went fine." How good it was to wait that extra 30 minutes While someone sleepy slowly woke up and nurses Did their nursing on the sun who lights my sky. How … Continue reading Together
"As I type these words, a woman Laura and I only met a few weeks ago is cutting into my wife's abdomen in search of a mass that she will then snip off and remove from my wife's body." And that fact puts a new perspective on things.
"I feel I am about to get back to the starting line of the waiting game again." Tomorrow Laura has surgery.
I followed them, the restless, jeering lot, Down dusty, well-worn paths outside our town. Not even clamoring taunts and wails could drown The anguished cries of whip-flailed flesh now shot Clean through with nails. Him? Him whom I had sought For so long, pining for his peace? His crown Did not resemble one due him, … Continue reading Into Death Like His
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