It won’t be long now. We’re about to lose our dad for the second time. We lost him the first time on June 1, 2005. That morning as he prayed with my mom—as he did every morning before the day got going—he suffered a massive stroke that robbed him of a great deal...
Tomorrow my friend Sarah will bury her husband, the first of my peer group to do so. And while she and I haven’t had much contact in the half-decade since I moved to a different state, Sarah will always be a special friend. When the devastating news of her loss...
The face value of my dad’s gift was only one dollar and thirty-nine cents, hardly a fortune and barely even a gift. But it was a treasure from the man I have loved all my life to the man I will love for the rest of my life. The recipient of the one-dollar coin and the...
Reposting today in memory of my friend Tim, who met Jesus last night, and shortly thereafter, I’m sure, was reunited with his dearly loved wife, Judy. The or iginal post was written in September 2015, and at the time, I was pretty sure I’d never see Tim again this...
My dad and I stood at the double doors to the sanctuary, waiting for twelve bells to chime and the doors to swing open. Looking at me, he said, “I’ve waited a long time for this day,” and I said, “Me, too, Dad. Me, too.” What I didn’t say—because I would have come...
In one of my moves since amassing a library, my sister hefted a box across the room and asked, “What’s in here?! Bricks??” I think the answer to her question with respect to that particular box was “no,” but she was onto something about me: I do, actually, move bricks...
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