Every ending means a new beginning

An hour before church is set to begin, I find the pastor’s wife weeping in the church nursery. She’s huddled in the chair in the corner by the playpen, pressed deep into it, like a wild thing cornered. Over the last dozen years, she has sequestered herself often here during …

In the tattered years…still God

The Preacher and I travelled a thousand summer miles between Dad’s home and ours recently. We took a bed and breakfast a mile or so down the road from his care facility and visited daily between naps and meals. We played checkers for an hour one afternoon, he and I. …

He’s alive and I’m forgiven – Peter’s story reverberates in song

Every Easter, the Preacher pulls out our guitar, sits down, clears his throat and begins. It’s one of our family’s favourite traditions: “The gates and doors were barred, all the windows fastened down. I spent the night in sleeplessness And rose at every sound; half in hopeless sorrow, and half …