This is the day

I was twelve when my grandmother lay dying in a hospital bed in Kansas City. I missed having her hug … More

My Dad Was a List Maker

My dad was a list maker. In a journaling book, he left a list for me of five of the … More

The prairie is burning. The thick smell of grass fire hangs heavy in the air. It is difficult to tell … More

My first best friend was my dad. He was wise and kind, absent mindedly brilliant, punny, and an excellent listener. … More

Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the … More

In the dark, quiet hours of the morning, my great uncle, Terrel Taylor, went home. And as I have thought … More

Planting bulbs is such a deliberate act of hope. Holding brown, dry, seemingly lifeless hunks of plants, you dig a … More

I have a box in my closet, black and white, with flowers laced through. It is a beautiful, unlabeled box. … More

Simple enough for children to memorize. Timeless enough to be read to mourners for centuries. Repeated enough so that even … More

I’ve listened to and sung this song, countless times. I’d always thought it was a bit repetitive. (Of course, in … More