Advent came a little later than expected this year.
Clinging to Hope Amid Failed Expectations
I held high hopes for tomatoes this summer.
Down in the gullies, you make springs to rise
Have you ever had one of those palm-to-forehead moments?
My Piece to Own
How are we to respond when we’ve been wronged?
Remembering Our Collective Oppression
I saw it again the other day: she took a wide berth, or perhaps I should say, she gave me a wide berth.
Hope is still there
This year, Ash Wednesday looked like parking in a 12-minute spot on the corner of Bay and Montecito and walking up to the front step of our church building.
The Dark Ancient Truth of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel
Usually, by the time December rolls around, I am ready for the Advent season to come around as well.
This One Word is Enough
“The sun must be sad today, Mama,” my younger son said to me.
Striving for Justice and Peace by Putting One Foot in Front of the Other
Fifty-four years ago, my father-in-law set out to walk 220 miles from Memphis, Tennessee to Jackson, Mississippi. Even though the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had passed less than a year earlier, a stronghold of fear still gripped African American voters, especially in the South.
I Choir the Proper Praise
Just after 7:30 this morning my younger son and I trekked out to the driveway in our slippers and pajamas, a box of sidewalk paint, a roll of masking paint, and my cup of coffee our only companions.