I do a fair amount of listening to country music, but I’m always a little gun shy of my radio this time of year (no pun intended) because the closer we get to the fireworks the more often they play Toby Keith singing about putting a boot up anyone’
“It was a dark and stormy night.” So goes the opening sentence to Snoopy’s always-in-process novel back in the Peanuts days. He sat at his typewriter, ready to be the next great American novelist and that was the best he could do. “It was a dark and stormy night.
“Forget about fairy tales,” she said as we entered Wolf Hollow. “They will make you frightened of the wolves,” she said, as though we were looking at docile dogs through two layers of tall fence. Gracie our youngest, descendant of the wolves I’m told, is frightened by the early
I am more and more convinced that time doesn’t move in a line. Even as I make that statement, I can recall one of my seminary professors waxing eloquent about the linear view of time being something that made the Judeo-Christian worldview stand apart from the others: history was
One of the things I have been turning over in my mind for the last couple of days is this post from Back Road Journey: This past Sunday in worship we were asked the question, “What is the opposite of war?” and before I could even think of the standard
once upon a time or even below one there was an asylum somewhere here on asylum hill there had to be everything is named after it: asylum this asylum that all the doors and windows up and down the street have bars to keep people out, not in like the
I'm off to Hartford on our church's youth mission trip and will be back on Thursday. I don't know how often I will get to post in the days ahead, but I'll do my best. Peace, Milton
Since I grew up in Africa, one of the American phenomena I have struggled to understand is the Yard Sale. In Nairobi or Lusaka, the thought of selling stuff we were no longer using made no sense; we gave it away to any number of folks around us who needed
when darkness falls outside and inside at the end of a pretty good day I have turned on the music I know – songs that have lighted many nights with the slide of fingers along steel strings fingers picking a pattern of sorrow and sadness as comforting as the wind and
Summer arrives in a few minutes announced only by the estival breezes and the clacking of the wooden blinds in our room. The sun filled the room with light just after five this morning and won’t retreat until nearly ten. This is the longest day. Somewhere around ten I
This has been one of those weeks where Ginger’s schedule and mine leave us feeling as though we live in different time zones, so I rode with her to her meeting on the other side of Boston just so we could have time in the car together both going
Summer has finally made it's way here: the day is clear and we're going to hit 80. (I realize that's spring for you Texas folks.) Since I wrote about "Angel from Montgomery," I've had songs on my mind and have