It’s late, the dinner shift was busy, and I am missing my friend David. I’ve turned to music we shared together, particularly Mark Heard and Pierce Pettis. One of Pierce’s songs, “I’ve Got a Hope,” keeps circling around. I tried to find it on YouTube to no avail, but here is the lyric. It comes…
Last night our little town of Durham lay in the path of a winter storm working it’s way up the East Coast and we got enough snow to make it feel real. Once the ground was covered, I walked out into the street to take a picture of our house with lights aglow. Because the…
I wrote last night about a friend in ICU. Tonight I write to say my friend, David Gentiles, died earlier this evening with his daughters gathered around him. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for a couple of hours looking for words and have come up empty. My friend is gone: my heart hurts,…
I have spent the last couple of days waiting for news about an old friend who was severely injured and is in ICU; beyond that, the details are not mine to share. Our friendship goes back about twenty-five years, I think; it seems tonight that we have always known each other. My sadness has let…
If someone were driving by our church tonight, they might have mistaken us for Baptists: the parking lot was full on a Wednesday night. The choir was rehearsing, with orchestra, for their Vivaldi offering on Sunday, the bilingual English class was having their Christmas party in the Fellowship Hall, and a group of us were…
After a week with my in-laws, a week where I didn’t have to work and had time to cook dinner in the evenings, I’ve had two days of double shifts split between lunch at the Duke restaurants (making soups, mostly) and evening catering jobs, one on a grand scale (520 people) and the other, a…
I’m not sure how much preparingfood for five hundred is likepreparing the way of the Lord,but I’ve had morning, afternoon,and evening to think about it. The best division of labor wasto choose and do one thing:I grilled vegetables – squash,actually – for an hour or two.It was not the featured food, but it was my…
posada they called it, and translated“inn,” in Spanish, then, in robesand scarves and hoods theycircled the sanctuary, stoppingat each door, singing for theirshelter, and being turned awayuntil they got to the doorat the altar; they sang againand one little bearded boybent around the door andsaid, “Yes, you can stay here.” Yes is the harder answer…
In my reading earlier in the week, Madeleine L’Engle (on a page I can’t find now) talked about the necessary structure of life giving us freedom. She used poetry in general, and the sonnet in particular, to make her point: the boundaries of the form create the space to move freely. I’ve had my copy…
Since I share a birthday with Frank Sinatra, Jennifer Connelly, Emerson Fittipaldi, Tracy Kidder, Dickey Betts, Edvard Munch, John Jay, Gustave Fluabert, and Dionne Warwick, among others, this song feels appropriately celebratory. Peace,Milton