Bridgewater Baptist Church, Beatific Prelude Listen reverently as Charlie Haden and John Taylor play “Bittersweet,” the sound of this story. Greeting Imagine a young man, newly arrived in America, suitcase in hand. He strolls through Electric Park as fireworks…
An airman reflects: don’t thank me this Memorial Day
I was talking to one of our Air Force senior leaders the other day who said, “Everyone who has served on the front lines of this war has been forever changed.” That was cool, because “Forever Changed” is the name…
A Poem: Good Friday with the Methodists
I estimate forty of us— spread like thin gravy over the dim sanctuary. My own Baptist flock honors the noontime crucifixion, so tonight my son and I are free to join these Methodists who have hired four Gregorian chanters from the…
The chaos of waiting
Clearly there had been some mistake. Mark was thirty-four-years old and healthy. He had never even spent a night in the hospital. We had a two-year-old son. We had plans for a vacation and our careers and our family. How…
You too.
Few things invite the kind of eyes-shut-grab-the-mic-and-bang-out-a-couple-of-quick-bars-of-life-is-a-highway quite like spending two weeks snowed-in under a suffocating pile of things entitled something along the lines of “5 ways to tell if your dog is hiding an addiction from whatever Harry Potter character…
Before I go: A Stanford neurosurgeon’s parting wisdom about life and time
In residency, there’s a saying: The days are long, but the years are short. In neurosurgical training, the day usually began a little before 6 a.m., and lasted until the operating was done, which depended, in part, on how quick…
Lessons from the church bus
As a youth minister I have spent countless hours driving our church bus, Big Rhonda. She and I have a love hate relationship that started with a six hour drive back from a mission trip in July with no AC….
Leaving Fred Craddock’s funeral, yearning just to be Christian
I was early to Fred Craddock’s funeral. Cherry Log Christian Church is less than two hours from Atlanta, but a trip to Appalachia seems farther so I gave myself way too much time. I had been told to eat at…
Eyes wide open
After Sunday’s service, a friend emailed me a confession: He kept his eyes open during Prayers of the People, which I led this week. It was a Lenten prayer about finding beauty in dry places, the hand of God in…