come . . .
sit in the dark with me
and tell the truth
reach deep in the
pockets of our souls
for scraps of hope
and wonder
come . . .
look up at the storms
of firefly stars flinging
their light our way
lay back on the blanket
of dead leaves and
sleeping soil
come . . .
sing an old song
on this longest night
this first day of winter
the one about being
together no matter what
yes -- that one
Peace,
Milton
It’s getting down to crunch time in the baseball season, which means it doesn’t take much for my sermon to intersect with the Red Sox. Here’s what I said on Sunday. ________________________________ In the fall of 2004, I was the Associate Pastor of the First Congregational Church of
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Last week’s lectionary passage is one of my favorites. Here’s what I had to say on Sunday. __________________________ Right after Ginger and I got back from our trip to Durham last month, we noticed a plant that had sprung up along our back fence line. It was not there
I think this is the first time that thinking about prayer took me to both Robert Frost and ice hockey. Here’s my sermon for this week. ____________________________ My twelfth grade English teacher Ms. Morse is responsible, in part, for my love of poetry—particularly the poems of Robert Frost. When