Fresh Paint

‘Nothing a fresh coat of paint can’t solve.’ That’s my father talking, the homebuilder. His hands were ever creating. I think I inherited his artist heart, but instead of picking up a paintbrush, I picked up a pen. I use words to capture the world around me.  My mind takes pictures. It’s what happened when…

The Fire He Gives Me

On the beach, late afternoon, tide out, sand firm under foot. I’m not here to ogle at the pelicans, but to test my strength by running a mile as fast as my legs can carry me. When I lace up my old track spikes, memories flood my mind, and oddly, thoughts land on a long…

Walter,’Never at the Altar’

My partner for the ‘afternoon of outreach’ was Daniel, a high school student from Brooklyn. It was a first for him, this ‘going out and talking to perfect strangers.’ He was nervous, visibly. Later, he confided that for the past couple of years atheists, who challenged his every belief, had bullied him. The weekend retreat…

Mr Greengrass

During my growing up years, I called him Mr. Greengrass; wrinkles, wispy white hair, deep crow’s claws around penetrating eyes. He was the old man who came by often, and smelled like mothballs. Ironically, Leighton Greengrass lived up to his name, not a single blade of grass out of place in his manicured yard. One…

When God Breaks In…

He was a doctor of internal medicine, and his words were a jaded iceberg, admittedly desensitized by the dying he sees every day. “There are no miracles for someone in stage four cancer… at least I’ve never seen one,” he said. “My mom passed away about eight years ago. She was only 55, and at…

A Beggar, and the beauty of Advent

I was standing in line for coffee, when to my left appeared a homeless man. His stench overwhelmed a normally aromatic space. People fidgeted, and he went straight to the counter, leaned in and spoke with the manager. I overheard him ask for a cup of coffee. The manager shook her head, and the beggar…

The Flutter

Something had brushed her cheek. The flutter of a wing, though infinitesimal, had stopped her, a subtle movement through invisible lines. Without knowing it, an angel had crouched next to her, but had misjudged the expanse of his wings. He noticed when the little girl suddenly touched her skin there. The angel froze, and she…

Where Love Grows

I’m old enough to be his father. He just turned 30, and will soon be a father of four. We come from two very different places, rural and city, yet we have found a common crazy; we love teens enough, to go to the hard places to reach them. We met when he volunteered at a…

“He Sets A Table…”

In the immortal 23rd Psalm, David pens words that comfort believers, warm skeptics, and stop everyone who see’s beauty in poetic muscle. Did these strophes spill from his heart one night while he guarded his sheep? Did he hear the sound of an enemy to his flock, and stare down menacing red eyes in pitch…

A Note For Tired Parents

When my children were small, I used to rush home from whatever I was doing, and be greeted by little hands pawing for attention, and feet dancing around in circles, dizzy with anticipation. Playtime would be a tangle of limbs, and a chorus of laughter and giggles, curious fingers padding a receding hairline, and soft…

A Young Scientist Meets an Old Saint

I met him on a recent flight, and our light banter soon turned more serious. “Having a more rationale mind, how do you see faith in God playing a part?” I asked. “Not at all,” he confided. “If I can’t prove it, I don’t believe it.” Sebastian is a recent high school graduate, and one…

Raymond’s Race

I first met him in a crowded high school hallway. He was down on hands and knees trying to pick up his books, while a group of students were kicking them down the hall poking fun at him. Sadly, he was laughing right along with them. When he got back up, I noticed his right…