Freedom and Choice.

So we have eight year olds smashing the faces of twelve year olds here, girls no taller than my shoulder posturing gangster hostility, here on this earth where people formed from dust forget their breath and treat each other like dirt. And this one little girl who fires up like a Don she cocks her hip and shakes her head and waves her finger and taunts the other children with violent glares and hostile words… and she is eight.

Called.

The thing is, underneath it all, so often we’re not sure. Not sure who we are, not sure that we’re valuable, not sure where to place our feet in all this whirling world.  Questions haunt the corridors of our minds, the edges of our identities, pouncing on us from the shadows when we find ourselves alone with our thoughts. Who are we? What does it all mean? Are we loved? Are we significant?

Prologue: Beginning

Prologue Beginning     Read Genesis 1:1-27 and John 1:1-12 Crosses piped on hot crossed buns, flurries of flour every where, globs of dough sliding down fingers and splattering onto the bench.   We’ve done this every year for a while now. These annual traditions grounding us, giving us markers in our calendars and comfortable assumptions in... Continue Reading →

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