In early spring, three streams of thought converged and took this present shape—a confession—in poetry and memory.
The first stream ran through several posts about growing up within...and looking at what American Christianity has become.
Another stream responds to friends who graciously shared their religious understandings. It seems fair to provide some hint of the historic faith in which I've come to hope.
A third stream flowed from reading poetry—the stuff that stumbles on some beauty breaking through the jagged twists of life.
It is my hope the confluence of these streams cohere for readers...and share some of life's wonder too.
If you were gone...
To the Meaning
The Elves are Gone
Black and Blue and All
When It Happens Here
Confession Regarding an Election
Meditations at an Airshow
Tradition: Antidote to Individualism
Escape from Self-Pity
The Land of Zoomzoomachi
Doubt and the Material World
The Poetics of Christmas
Darkness I Sing
On the Occasion of a Wedding
Musicians and Monastics
How can we talk about character and ethics?
I Want to Live
Find Your Neighbor
The Right Church