• About miltybc

    Blogging since December 2005



    by  • August 20, 2019 • america, grief, justice, race • 1 Comment

    “Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,” is the opening line to “Seasons of Love” from the musical Rent, answering the question, how do you measure a year in the life. What about four hundred years? The first enslaved people arrived on our shores at Fort Comfort, Virginia four hundred years ago today. –twelve...

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    let’s finish this

    by  • August 18, 2019 • faith, hope, incarnation, sermon • 5 Comments

    I preached this morning at our church in Guilford. My text was Hebrews 12:1-2. Here’s what I had to say. I am not a runner. I never have been. When I was in eighth grade, we had a school-wide track meet in which everyone was expected to participate. I signed up for whatever race...

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    sermon prep

    by  • August 17, 2019 • poetry, sermon, writing • 2 Comments

    I’m preaching tomorrow at First Congregational Church in Guilford. Since it is my church, I’m going to wait to post the sermon until tomorrow, since I want to make sure no one gets a sneak peak. Instead, here’s a poem that grew out of my preparation. sermon prep what can I say what should...

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    I’m just the kid . . .

    by  • August 16, 2019 • grace, love, music, time • 7 Comments

    I remember the afternoon in Fort Worth. I walked into Sound Warehouse—a regular stop on my way home from work—and picked up two debut CDs off the “Discover New Artists” rack: Shawn Colvin’s Steady On and David Wilcox’s How Did You Find Me Here?, which is still my favorite title for a first record....

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    a room of (sorta) my own

    by  • August 14, 2019 • hope, writing • 8 Comments

    Billy Collins has a poem about working on a poem and then talking about it before it was finished, only to watch it get up and walk away. I know how he feels. Then there are other times when it helps to get it out in the open like a promise that needs to...

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    say the words

    by  • August 13, 2019 • america, community, kindness, language, words • 9 Comments

    One of the websites I go to for inspiration and sustenance is called Brain Pickings. It is hard to say what it’s about, other than taking a meaningful look at what it means to be truly human. It is curated by Maria Popova, who has quickly moved up on my list of people I...

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    nothing matters

    by  • August 12, 2019 • friends, grace, patience, poetry • 0 Comments

    nothing matters from my window seat I can see a bench concrete sides holding wooden slats under the tree that has taken a century to grow beyond the telephone pole from my window seat I can see a bench concrete sides holding wooden slats under the tree that has taken a century to grow...

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    I still remember

    by  • August 9, 2019 • race, words, writing • 0 Comments

    The first Toni Morrison book I ever read was her first book, The Bluest Eye, which tells the story of Pecola, a young African-American girl growing up in Lorain, Ohio in the 1940s. Because of her mannerisms and her dark skin, she is considered “ugly.” She has a doll that is white. Pecola wishes...

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    better words

    by  • August 8, 2019 • change, community, incarnation, language, trinity • 7 Comments

    When we were in Provincetown last weekend to see Julie, our former foster daughter, cross the finish line for the Pan Mass Challenge, I saw a t-shirt in a window that said, “I am silently correcting your grammar.” I almost bought it. The fact that language changes is both exciting and dreadful for someone...

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