Tamale Day (an Italian sonnet) I watch you standing near the steaming pot, perspiration’s glow dripping down your face. You splay the corn husks with an expert grace, spread masa just the way your mother taught. Black olives, not green, always hit the spot. There is history you will not erase, traditions from another time and place, tamales made with love just can’t be bought. Memories of kids standing…

A TRIOLET OF PRAISE The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drift upon the breeze, float high where simple praises waft. The embers of the hymn burn soft. Sparkling descants climb aloft, soar above angel devotees. The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drifting on the breeze.

Lindi and I were good friends when we were really young, but we lost contact and hadn't seen each other in years. Then we connected again, and began hanging out. At the time, I was working two jobs: A day job (9-5) and playing in a band at night (9-1AM). While we had resumed our friendship, Lindi had some well-deserved concerns about me. I was spending my nights in…

What joy it is to watch and join in Sunday worship, along with Kathy, from our living room. What a privilege to hear God’s word, confess our sin, pray, hear God’s blessing, and sing familiar songs from the comfort of our home. It’s fun to hear Mr. Hand and shout out Happy Birthday to people we love. How good it is to hear familiar voices and see Mark and…

FROM HERE ON UP Walking the long, slow slog of life. Climbing step by arduous step, each one infinitely more painful than the one that came before.  Struggling, tottering, limping on scarred and blistered feet,  twisted ankles, hobbled knees, tripping, staggering, stumbling the hard scrabble mountain path.  From here on up, it’s downhill all the way...

One of 9 people presiding in the top echelon’s of the judicial systems of our country died today. I have no idea how she reacted or thought of being referred to not by her name rather a nomenclature of three letters. I don’t think I would like it, because is seams to disassociate me from being a real person, or my identity as myself. The truth is I know…

I was fourteen, wiry, strong, with skin browned by a fiery sun.  Its rays beat down on my head in those humid summer fields where I slowly ‘walked the beans’.  Walking the beans meant pulling up the sticky, thorny Jimson weeds that grew wild among uncle Paul’s  perfectly furrowed rows of soy beans.  It was also known as Devil’s Snare and richly earned its evil name.  The work was…

A FaceTime conversation with Saoirse over breakfast this morning was sheer joy. We chatted about her plans for the day that includes what sounds like a fun play date with friends. We talked about having Spam and eggs for breakfast. She ate Spam in Hawaii but didn’t like it much. She had some hidden blueberries in her cereal, but no bananas because Momma has to go to the store…

I love Eric and Mark. I love the way they love each of you and the way they love the Village. I love the way they submit their lives to God and serve him with their whole heart. I love their wives and children who, along with them, are dedicated to the work of mission and ministry. Even little Saoirse, though only three, lights up my life with the…

Tonight (Wednesday, July 15th) at 8:30 I’m going to join Eric, Sue, and Michael for a time of worship at the church. You can find a link on the front page of the website. I grew up around midweek services. We had a Friday service when I was in elementary and middle school. I would play with my friends outside while my parents were in the service. When I…

Preaching on a whole book of the Bible in one sermon is so hard. Inevitably there are threads that come up during study that can’t be explored. My basic outline for my sermon on Ecclesiastes was, smoke/vapor, wealth, work, party, wisdom, root into God. The reality is that each of those pieces could have been their own sermon, but that’s not the point of this series. So, here’s a…

Halcyon Days  Fresh peach ice cream slow frozen in Uncle Rich’s hand cranked churn.  Lightning bugs dancing around hollyhocks on a gentle summer eve.  The sweet aroma of fresh mown alfalfa wafting in from Mr. Vander Linden’s field.  Barn owls hooting softly as tiny field mice scamper off in every direction.  A million mile moon drifts across the sky between dim clouds and sparkling stars.  Dad whistles bits and…