This article was written for and published on The Christian Manifesto blog. “What do you want to do?” people wanted to know as soon as I finished high school. It was a problem, because I was already doing what I wanted to do. I was writing. I was teaching in my local church. I was using my … Continue reading Quiet, Little, & Long
A True Story from Home I remember Frank as an old man, always kneeling in some corner to measure or drill, always doing it quietly with trembly hands. I remember staring at the nub where I’d heard he’d lost a finger to a chop saw, and wondering if it was still lying in his shop … Continue reading The Man Who Built the Lord’s House
A Story of Christmas Present It’s that time of year when the trees go up in the church foyer, and the Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes get stacked, and I stand in the green fluorescence of Dollar Tree, and everything on the shelves is plastic and off-brand, and I wonder if the kid getting my box … Continue reading Glory in a Box
I saw a little kid run out of the Cathedral Basilica so I figured it was alright to go inside, to raise my hand to the brass handles and to ease open the pillared door. I saw a tourist group inside the Cathedral Basilica so I figured it was alright to look around, even thought … Continue reading I Saw a Little Kid
It’s Sunday morning and our pastor is there early, drinking his coffee, straightening the chairs in the sanctuary, and, I think, praying over them. The heater makes the ceiling creak as Jason and Courtney hold hands to pray before he’ll lead worship in a voice that sounds like Mark Hall’s from Casting Crowns, and she’ll … Continue reading Sunday Morning
My favorite part of Fritz’s funeral was when his friends got up to tell stories about him--- how he got locked inside the city dump once, how he ate breakfast at Wimpy’s diner every week, and how the waitresses kept a bottle of special syrup there just for him. Fritz was man with his eyes … Continue reading Fritz
Sometimes, I'll forget whether it’s Dad’s Sunday to preach or not, but as soon as I feel my way down the hallway toward the coffee pot, I know. If he isn’t reading in the armchair by the window, then his black dress shoes wait on the floor next to it. I like to see him … Continue reading The Minister, As I Know Him
He poked his head into the church foyer and asked if we gave out free Bibles, and we looked at each other. Then we said, “Of course,” and in our hurry, almost handed him someone’s nice leatherbound they’d left on the coat rack. We invited him in out of the dark, and I gave him … Continue reading The Wanderer
I made a list of foods over the weekend (and made myself hungry doing it): Cucumbers and crackers and cheeses and grapes and tea and butter for scones. If I couldn’t remember something, I tried to imagine Bilbo’s pantry and the Dwarves’ feast as they ravaged it. After all, Hutchmoot is a place for eating … Continue reading A Taste of the Feast & A Prayer for Hutchmoot
Service ended last Sunday and the balcony filled, hummed, then emptied as people found their classrooms. We’ve moved our ladies’ Sunday school class to the gym to leave gaps between tables— social distance. It makes things awkward, because our voices ring off the walls and ceiling and basketball backboards. But it’s good, because Mrs. Barb … Continue reading Lightdrops
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