Ecclesiastes and a Pandemic

I didn't keep a journal during this pandemic. I wish I had. I find myself scrolling back through my iPhone calendar trying to figure out how many days we've been like this. Arizona "reopened" on May 15th. We're eight days into gyms, restaurants and many retail stores being open for business. But life is by… Continue reading Ecclesiastes and a Pandemic

I won’t be passive about the evil destroying women and children

First I want to confess, I'm a coward by nature. I, like Pilate, avoid conflict, washing my hands of decisions that might cost me peace. Without the reigns of the Spirit of Jesus in my life, I would trot off down the path of keeping peace, shutting my mouth. I would disguise my passivity, hoping… Continue reading I won’t be passive about the evil destroying women and children

An argument for the costly care of the least of these

If wrinkled Boomers with diabetes and heart disease amputations and hemiparesis are random collisions of worn out atoms draining our society of valuable resources... If the cost of rehabilitating the Grey Tsunami, aphasic from stroke, requiring a hoyer lift to move their paralyzed frames from bed to a rolling shower chair so nurses’ aides can… Continue reading An argument for the costly care of the least of these

A call for the aged

What will you do when your face frowns deep creases grow and you've lost your youthful glow? What when bladders can no longer contain what for years you emptied in a private latrine? Now your hands are crippled aged bones. Now your muscular thighs give out from your stroke. Now you look up from your… Continue reading A call for the aged

the war is over grandma

grandma was a little girl back in 45 "It's over. The war." her teacher hollered outside she remembered that day outside the schoolhouse also a church kicking the can to play she remembered being mad the teacher's news meant no more fun she wanted to run she recalled the holler little river rock house where… Continue reading the war is over grandma

Death tried to sting Grandma tonight. But Jesus…

Night number two with Grandma. She's more lucid this evening. Every time I've ever walked into her home I've always heard the same sugary-sweet Arkansas accented greeting, "Well hello there sweet heart!" Her eyes light up and she smiles like she knows everything that's going on in my life before I say a word. She… Continue reading Death tried to sting Grandma tonight. But Jesus…

We weren’t meant to die

I'm sitting here on this lazyboy in my grandma's apartment watching her breath while she sleeps on the couch. The television is playing dvd's she's created over the years with pictures of all that's important to her- her family.  Hymns and songs of worship that help her feel God's pleasure fill the room.  They're songs… Continue reading We weren’t meant to die

The real, not so glamorous, Christmas story

  On a night (or maybe it was day), in Roman occupied ancient Israel, a young, Jewish woman writhed, and cried as the excruciating pains of labor gripped her body and tore her flesh.  And there, where animals in the ancient world feed, a vernix and blood covered baby boy, swaddled in clothes to keep… Continue reading The real, not so glamorous, Christmas story