a baby smiled at me in our coffee shop a kind, happy woman handed me a hot dog sample at costco and I made chicken corn and black bean soup for friends who gathered to talk about what would make a difference in our town: street lights, sidewalks in an hour and a half we…
I love winter. I love the cold and the snow and the bundling up. And I miss it. Durham does not know much of winter, other than the passing glances — wintry mixes — that leave us reeling from time to time because they are less than familiar. This weekend, however, I’m back in Boston…
cynic critic thoughtful friend wide-eyed worn-out on the mend wondering wishing just the facts prophet listener off the tracks hungry angry coffee spoons lover laugher set to tunes true believer last to know all together miles to go Peace, Milton
I know. It’s been days since I’ve written. Both my mind and my Moleskin are filled with fragments waiting to become poems and posts. Instead, my days and nights have been filled with food and friends, with laughter and tears, with new faces and familiar smiles. Yesterday, I drove into Houston, where I graduated from…
“the chairs no one sits in”:* as soon as I saw the lines, I thought, “I was going to write that poem” — once again, I’m reminded what’s new to me is not new most of my thoughts are about as original as sin perhaps it’s not about who got there first, but getting there:…
I’ve loved the Magi since I was a kid. I don’t know if it was their exotic nature, or that they were chasing stars across the desert, or that they were a sort of odd addition to the whole manger scene, but they have continued to keep my attention. As I learned to love poetry,…
One of the books I read and reread as a youth minister was David Elkind’s The Hurried Child, which was his take on adolescence in the 1980s. My guess is it still holds up pretty well. One of the things I took away from that book (or at least I remember it coming from that…
no matter what page we turn what ball drops or what calendar we follow when tomorrow dawns on us we will still hold the sorrow that slept here last night the hopes and fears of all last year might sit silently for a few hours while we dance and remember the promises we hoped to…
Our Christmas Eve service, like many around the country, is a service of Lessons and Carols. It is also a family service, so there is the rumble of restless little ones underneath all the singing and silence. It’s awesome. This year, Ginger made a point of asking a number of our children and young people…
The story below is one I wrote several years ago. I read it this morning at church. I offer it to you tonight. A Faraway Christmas by Milton Brasher-Cunningham As we gather together on this Silent Night, To sing ‘round the tree in the soft candlelight, From a Faraway Christmas, from time…