Hope When You’re Stretched Thin
The night before my first trip into the little village in Afghanistan that became my home for four years, as I prayed, terrified, my reading contained these words: “Arise, my…
The grace of tight places
I woke this morning from a dream in which I was setting out to bike over a bridge. Before I could get onto the bridge, though, I had to squeeze…
Life gets the last word
Each time I pass the rock garden on the corner it’s a little more alive, orange now highlighting the patches of mauve, sunny yellow and fuchsia. The baby pink cherry…