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Whose Woods These Are I Think I Know or Home At Last
“You’re right, Sissy. It’s beautiful.” “I told you. Shiloh. Sit, boy. Good dog!” “Everything here is just exactly as Grandma described, isn’t it?” Tully caught a snowflake on his mittened hand and marveled that the designs were even more intricate now that they were here. “Her home is exactly what she dreamed of having.” Sissy …[ read more ]
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When My Soul Aches for Home
There is a beauty in the world that makes my soul ache for home, that reminds me of our former glory and all that God intended, all that lies ahead and when I focus on this beauty my hope is renewed for a time: The humble honesty of a simple onion, The snapping, watery flesh …[ read more ]
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Michael Jackson, Babies and Muslims
Watching television reporters fall all over themselves trying to sum up Michael Jackson’s bizarre life and prolific career, I think it is a perfect example of why none of us should attempt to play God. Which of us is capable of sorting through a life’s accomplishments and failures and making a true judgment regarding its …[ read more ]
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Surviving Those We Lose
I’ve been thinking about the Apostle John. He’s my favorite Biblical writer. His style, his way with words, the themes on which he focuses resonate with my spirit. But lately I’ve been thinking about the fact that he probably lived into his nineties. Whereas, according to tradition, we believe most of the other disciples were …[ read more ]