I did my best not to watch but couldn’t help but listen when they talked about it on the radio as I drove to work to play with kids and words the announcer spoke of the prince and his longtime girlfriend . . . they were just pronounced man and wife she
Mary came to the grave yard alone expecting to pour out her grief; and she met someone she should have known even though their encounter was brief. She stayed after the others had gone back to town to tell Christ was alive; in the light that came after the dawn
When we moved into our house last summer, we moved into a home where the house had been fixed up (it was built in 1926), but the yard was – well – a trash heap, in the back at least. The front yard was mostly weeds, some prettier than others. Because we
Today was a cold and rainy day here in Durham. The sky never brightened beyond the dull gray of the clouds that rattled and wept most of the day. Here, where spring has arrived in full force, the temperature struggled to reach sixty degrees. In a week full of bright
Brothers and sisters, from where have you come? Such was the question that greeted us as we prepared to share Communion in our Maundy Thursday. Those of us scattered across the sanctuary had come from different places. The answer we were called to give in unison was compelling: We have
the wildflower patch is coming back for an encore performance after last year’s inaugural run right now everything is a verdant vibrant and bloomless array of weeds and flowers, best I can tell so I hesitate to pull anything up by the roots because I just might be pulling
Because Easter is a moveable feast, our twenty-first wedding anniversary falls on Maundy Thursday. So we celebrated tonight. The Playmakers Repertory Company at UNC is doing a production of Big River, a musical telling of the adventures of Huckleberry Finn. The musical was on Broadway in the mid-eighties.
We drove to Hampton, Virginia Sunday after church to surprise our friend Charles who turns fifty tomorrow. We walked into their house around suppertime, ate, and then sat around the table talking as old friends do. Our conversation turned to music and then to the music we grew up on,
This Sunday is one with two faces, from shouts of hosanna to curses, and which emphasis that one places or whether one reads all the verses that take Jesus from palms to Passion and us from fanfare to forgiveness. We move in liturgical fashion to do all we can to
I’ve spent the last three days volunteering with the Full Frame Documentary Festival, one of the highlights of the Durham calendar and the largest documentary film festival in the world. I was assigned to the Artist Hospitality Team whose job it was to take the film makers and subjects
perhaps this could be seen as meeting the minimum requirement of my promise . . . I far exceeded, however, my quota for laughter, baseball, and my spirit soared like a fly ball in the thin night air . . . forgive me if I am a man of few words Peace, Milton
Marco Werman, the anchor for The World, said, “texted” in a sentence as the past tense of the verb “to text.” Though I’ve come to terms with the transition “text” has made form noun to verb (notice I didn’t say, “transitioned”), I’ve struggled with how to speak