To the Girl with the Scars on Your Body:
But when I hug you, I’m not hugging around your scars.
But when I hug you, I’m not hugging around your scars.
You who dare God to reveal Himself: Are you ready for what you will see?
Aren’t you tired of not having my newest book?
We’ve got Stockholm Syndrome for the world.
Random thoughts and a handful of pop song references.
Reflections on Good Friday, cherries, and cockroaches.
An ode to family and growing old joyfully…
And then one day it all goes black. All the stories you’ve held in your chest are released to fly into the night. It’s like waking up from a long sleep, but instead of morning grog, you are met with stunning clarity.
God loves to eat.
On the flip, if this crazy, magical world that sometimes smells like lavender and always spins is not only real, but points to something even more real than itself, cut me off a slice of that. I want in.
A black church burns down. Justice isn’t a comfortable coffee conversation; it’s standing near enough to the heat to smell your own hair being singed.









