Praying in Hope When There’s Hell on Earth
Snatching an hour of sunshine, I sit on a bench beneath maple trees, feeling the breeze gentle on my face, the light’s warm fingers caressing my shoulders. The sun-warmed tang…
Snatching an hour of sunshine, I sit on a bench beneath maple trees, feeling the breeze gentle on my face, the light’s warm fingers caressing my shoulders. The sun-warmed tang…
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…
17 years, 4 months, and 26 days ago, I first stepped out of a four-seater plane onto the packed dirt airstrip high in the mountains of Afghanistan near the little…