The stupendous oddness of being
I wake up, it’s light, there’s a slight wind slipping through the trees, and above these, is that purity of blue that arrives with a clear morning. ...
I wake up, it’s light, there’s a slight wind slipping through the trees, and above these, is that purity of blue that arrives with a clear morning. ...
There’s really only one assumption we can make about one another: that is, within all of us, there’s a little war going on between who we know ourse...
I became a Christian because early in life I was given the language: sin, debt, fear, hell, wrath—grace, love, repentance, atonement, heaven…these were the econ...
Photograph (and inspiration) courtesy of Laurie MacFayden, artist, poet, writer. Blue You see spectral shades, sweeping north and south, following the te...