A Note from the Author

People have been asking me lately about where my new book, Recital of Love, came from. Thinking about this, I have to conclude that it has its roots in failure, sickness, and purposelessness. As Christians, we are not always...

No person informed Clare of Assisi's understanding of womanhood and devotion more so than her mother, Orlolana. As she grew under her mother's...

As a Protestant, I have pondered why our faith tradition ought to know the host of Christian champions who are commonly deemed in the Catholic tradition, "the saints" --an aspect of our faith tradition that is largely neglected. If Protestants believe...

Anyone living in modern America simply cannot get their heads around the idea that poverty is something to be revered as blessed and more, sought after. Having lived in Honduras and confronting abject poverty every day, even as I went ...

I contemplate this room
And it looks a bloody mess, the carpet strewn
​​​With bits of stuff,
​​​Unhoovered fluff,
And my dried-up mind that lies...

It makes sense to me to begin with Mark S. Burrows’ poem, ‘What Glory’, as a text for my reflections this evening.
I take such a poem as Mark’s very seriously, not least because...

My poem burns with what it’s not:
​The Psalm that’s placed upon its tongue,
As if it had a tongue to cry out at
The nothingness it feels between...stresm

I am 52 years old, and have spent
truly the better part
of my life out-of-doors
but yesterday I heard a new sound above my head...

Hey—we’ve been passing like ships in the night. Can’t we hang out together
and make beautiful music like we used to?

You must have lost your marbles, she says.
You need to turn...