My mother-in-law loves me. I know I’m in her good graces, and she considers me part of her family. I can testify to such assurance because she lavishes me with her chosen form of affection. Her delivery method? Arguing. She’ll…
Oh, dear, what could the trouble be?
Plopping down in our library, I pour myself a glass of something the unlicensed Baptist preacher Elijah Craig had a hand in making. I sift through a plastic milk crate. A small collection of vinyl is housed in it. I…
I thought I didn’t have any more time in my Holy Week schedule, and then I learned about the Trump-endorsed Bible
Every pastor I know is busy. I haven’t come across one who tells me they have time to kill. The pastors in my circles aren’t on golf courses. They’re not at the gym or the spa. They haven’t signed up…
The greatest Christmas hymn ever written
Sitting on the floor Christmas morning in my bright red Union suit, I brace myself for the forthcoming onslaught of ripped wrapping paper at the hands of two small children. The kids already have found Santa’s presents resting beside the…
Jack Tales: Remembering Jack Causey
Growing up in Southern Appalachia, I was reared on what the mountain and foothill people called Jack Tales. Stories involving a young protagonist who finds himself in a world that sounds familiar but is filled with the unfamiliar. Jack’s adventures…
Why I don’t invite would-be friends to church
Walking along a well-beaten path, my daughter and I make our way through the canopy of trees toward the small lake’s shoreline. Already, I can see the congregating group of other parents with their children, staking claims with chairs and…
Jason Aldean and Tyler Childers and two visions of small-town community
It doesn’t seem like it was just a couple weeks ago Jason Aldean released a music video to expand on the lyrics of his now widely popular and equally controversial hit “Try That in a Small Town.” Nor does it…
‘Try That in A Sundown Town’
A small radio rested in my grandmother’s kitchen — one of those gadgets stained by time and the touch of hands that saw a day’s labor before sunrise. On it played nothing but Country Gold. As pintos simmered on the…
Back to the ATL, hungry for a welcome home
Let’s start with a bit of disclosure. I’m not afraid of flying. Really, I’m not. But as the plane I’m on starts to descend, I realize I’m afraid. Not beacuse we’re rapidly losing altitude. There’s been no abrupt change in…