what were intended to be dayshave become weeks – six, in factand these last few days of my summer find me trying to finish the deckinstead of other august projectsand, of course, I never intended to catch and cut my finger onthe protruding nail, or sweatthrough four (count ‘em) t-shirts one day, cooler and far…
while he is disappearingwe find ourselvesunder the same roofunpacking boxesunderstanding we have changedthe trajectoryof all our lives while he is sittingwe push ourselvesto make him safeand comfortablewithout knowingwhat he seesor what he thinksbehind the blankness while he is herewe will eat togethertake turns stayinghome with himhear the same jokesand wonder what to door so it…
This post finds me in Birmingham packing up my in-laws to come and live with us in Durham. Though I am quite experienced at losing cities, Ginger and her folks have deep roots here in Birmingham, so this week will be as full of grief as it is possibilities. Last week, I was camp pastor…
I heard someoneuse those two wordsjust last week –I can’t remember who –but they came backthis morning as I stepped outof my little hilltopcabin at campunder a cloudycanopy of attention I had yet to speakyet the conversationhad already begunin the languagesof leaves and larksand grasshoppers the gentle gallopof the Great Dane’sgiant greetingthe skies listeningbut not…
It seems this blog has become unintentionally sporadic. I have things I want to say that I have not had time to put on paper; I also have thoughts and feelings I need to sort out a bit before they are loosed on the world. In the greater scope of things, the challenges of these…
By the time I got to worship yesterday morning, I had already run a couple of errands, made sure the DVR was recording the World Cup match, made plans to spend part of the afternoon at the Food Truck Fiesta at the Durham Farmers’ Market Pavilion, and sketched out a bit of a plan for…
Ginger and I are spending the week at the Southwest Baptist Youth Camp, which is a collection of liberal Baptist churches (that’s actually not an oxymoron in their case), and we are getting to meet lots of new faces and see some old and dear friends. I am leading the music and Ginger is doing…
I’ve turned in my grades and have some time before our final faculty meeting, so here are some of my favorite songs of summer. To start us off, the Cars sing a song that always takes me back to youth camp. On to the Sundays singing, “It’s you and it’s me and it’s summertime ….
Do you remember the grade when we built volcanoes —hollow towers of papier-mâché, and the incendiary mixof vinegar and baking powderthat spewed over the sides? It was about the same time our sorrow began to stack up: the strata of struggle and shame solidifying into a debilitating monument whereour fault lines intersect. We watched movies…
One of the many things my wife does well is preach. I look forward to Sundays to hear her offering (no, I don’t get a sneak preview, as a rule) because she listens hard to both God and the world around her before she starts talking. And our world (meaning our personal world) has a…