Your life will be my life, and my life yours. Your son will be my son, his Father my Father. We will deal with the

I offer you the words I was offered in the Book we have both read. They are wrapped in tears of joy and tied together

My mama allows it could’ve been rape and it might’ve, you know, unsettled her mind. Grandma, who’s lived with us since grandpa died, declares she’s

Without expression, endurance cannot be shared. Without sharing, how can we serve him who shares?

She holds his shoes in her hands. They are worn shoes, but the only clothes not stolen by Romans, priests, elders, and everyone else who

Here it is: the English echo of your word upon which my soul feeds. Preprocessed food, to be sure, but liberally salted with the Spirit;

We’ve had doubts, debates, disasters, and delights. Sometimes, we haven’t liked each other. Sometimes, we haven’t liked ourselves. We’ve been unloving, unwise, unsure, but always