All is well (a song)
People who know me well know that I love songwriting and have been writing songs for over twenty years. I've been in a couple small...
I am a writer (a vocational declaration of independence)
Writing is therapy. For me anyway. I'm not saying writing has replaced my therapy or even that it compliments therapy. In some ways...
North Lawndale (a love poem and a lament)
You are raw but lovely Worn by time and neglect Weighted down by a hundred burdens Your terrorized eyes sunken Beneath forced Midwest...
DELOCATION
After 16 years, Jen and I are saying goodbye to the neighborhood we have called home, the place where we relocated to come serve...
The True Sources
In order to nourish our souls sometimes we have to move to uncharted waters (emotionally, spiritually, and physically). It's brave and...
Learning to love broken things (a poem)
photo credit: Shutterstock Learning to love broken things I am learning to love broken things Like the beauty of rust that bears witness...
A Letter To Death
Dear Death, I never wanted to see your face. For many years I was spared the agony of your presence. I guess I got too comfortable, too...
Befriending Anger, Grief, and Fear
When I was growing up, Anger became my friend. Anger and I would secretly hang out together. Anger showed me how to take out my...
The Salvation of Scrooge: A Christmas Case for Reparations
My wife Jen loves Christmas. Our Christmas tree is usually setup well in advance of December 25th (no later than Thanksgiving), and a...
Complicit at the Cross
Everyone’s complicit at the cross. By complicit, I don’t just mean in a general everyone-has-sinned-and-fallen-short-of-the-glory kind of...
