God, you’ve been our home since Adam. Before the mountains were born, before you birthed the world, before time began ‘til forever-- for it’s never over-- You. Are. God. You scooped dirt clods, breathed life into dust. You take back our breath, Say, “from dust-to-dust they must.” Mankind is nothing much. A thousand years in… Continue reading Home
If Mama were still alive this Mother's Day, I'd have a hard time finding the card I'd most want to send her. I would have to make my own, and it would say: "Thank you, Mama, that we didn’t discover any skeletons." That's a Mother's Day greeting I'll bet has yet to appear on any… Continue reading Making Arrangements
Mama is dying. I’m sitting in her bedroom next to her hospital bed, the metal rail cold against my leg. The oxygen tube is bothering her and Vicky, her caregiver, is adjusting it as I write. “That better, Martha?” Mama moans. Mama normally reads a page from her devotional every night with Vicky. When I… Continue reading Troubling Ourselves
One True Love 