Sep 28 2017

Grant Us Peace. 

Sep 24 2017

Sunflower Season

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Nov 13 2016

The Cold and Broken Hallelujah

Barn Window


Leonard Cohen died this week.

And Donald Trump became our president.

The whole world is in a state of bafflement and shock. The sadness clinging to the walls of our hearts is echoed by Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. The words of love offered with brokenness, our words. Our HallelujahThe broken Hallelujah of the united states of America. The states of our hearts. Our minds. Our souls.

We see your flag on the marble arch. Love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.

And can that be our “Amen” as a nation? The end of the petty arguments, violence, hatred, KKK, Nazi sign painting ?

Our victory march is love. There is no other way. It can be imperfect, because WE are imperfect. But we offer what we can, the broken pieces of who we are. Because We are all a little broken, and that’s how the light gets in.

~Leonard Cohen

As another poet said a few decades ago, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls”.


Nov 11 2016

Alone At Auschwitz


Every now and then I think back to the day Rob and I walked through Auschwitz in Poland. I will never forget the feeling as we drove into the dreaded town. At one point the road is parallel with several sets of railroad tracks, many of them leading directly into the former concentration camp. I had read countless stories of people that had lived and died in that place. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined myself walking through it myself.

Strange as it may sound, we had Maddie and Whitney with us, who were 4 and 2 at the time. We were traveling with a mission team to Slovakia, so one of the members that lived in Slovakia agreed to occupy the girls while we toured the museum side of the grounds.

At one point, we were able to walk around with the girls through the barracks. They had no idea where we were or what we were doing. I am certain they are not scarred from the experience. I had to go change Whitney’s diaper, and when I came back, our group had moved on. I was alone. In Auschwitz. Not a soul to be seen. I dare say it was one of the eeriest moments of my entire life.

Barracks surrounded me on either side. The tree branches were bare against the blue winter sky, and I could hear birds softly chirping. Beyond that, I could hear whispers and screams and shouts of the innocent victims suffering and dying in ages past around me. I know that sounds creepy, and very Ghost-Hunter-ish. I’m not talking about ghosts. I’m talking about memories that are so real that they are alive in the air and etched into every inch of that place. It was a moment God knew about before I was born, and one he had prepared me for my whole life.

I am forever changed because of those few moments alone at Auschwitz.

Today I am reminded on this Veteran’s Day of the men and women that died to set those people free. I am so honored to live in a country that believes in freedom and values life so much that we are willing to lay our lives down so others can know what it is to be free. I am thankful for our nation, and every nation on earth that lives to set others free.


Nov 9 2016

A Chat From My Hammock

Jan 18 2016

Dream Again


What if Martin Luther King Jr. Had a Dream, came off of the Mountaintop
And went home?
What if he caved to the pressure of self doubt
And journaled his thoughts instead in some quiet quaint safe place, smiled deeply, closed the front cover, put down his pen, and tucked his journal neatly in his bottom left drawer under some papers?

What if Martin Luther King Jr. stayed away from crowds because of the noise and lounged long evenings on his chair in front of the television, his dream kicking up air somewhere in the back of his mind, but settling there as he drifted off to sleep?

What if he knew he was right, but was just too tired to try fighting Goliath?

The horizon of passion kindled in his blood when he said yes to every dream. His vision grew clearer, the passion brighter, his following stronger.

*Unbury your journal. Wipe the sleep from your eyes and worry from your quivering chin. Dream again. I dare you.