Unexpectedly, I’ve teared up several times in the last eight days over the death of Queen Elizabeth II. This brave and honorable lady touched lives here “across the pond” in America and around the world. Of course, she was imperfect, but known to set anyone at ease; fun-loving, yet serious about the things that mattered.…
Could I Be More Grateful ? — My Reflection in the Garden of Gethsemane
Like the olive treeAncient branches knotted, fused —Your will one with that of the Father.Branches twisted, pierced through.Soon Your sinews, muscles would strain, contorted,Flesh torn.Yet You chose to meet Your betrayerWent willingly, boundYou who spread out a universeTo declare Your glory.Now Your glory shoneFrom obedience to deathOn a cross of wood.Fulfilling all things,Righteous Branch,You burst…
When You’re Crippled by Shame and Meet a King Compelled by Kindness
I had read this surprising story before. But for the first time I realized there was more meaning in it for me — for us — than I could have imagined. It's a true story, of a king compelled by kindness and a pauper crippled by shame. Years before he came into power, the king…
Once an Alien, One May Wonder —Always an Alien?
Have you ever been an alien? I have — a registered, certified alien. There may be reason to doubt, but, no, not the extra-terrestrial kind. As a single American for four years in Mexico, and as a wife, then mother, for 28 years in the Philippines, I was a resident alien. I needed to continually…
What Was He Created For? The Tale of the Young Nobleman
Far away in the Limmerey Isles, a young man grew up happy and carefree. He had become feudal lord in place of his noble father (for his parents had given him full control of their lands while on a distant quest), and he was much heralded in the villages that were part of his domain.…
With Love and Respect for All
With the sorrow, pain, and racial tensions we have been feeling in the U.S. these days, I am remembering a time when I experienced some of the most intense feelings I have ever had. My husband Ed and I, both white Americans, were with a group of other people from our organization, from Ghana, the…
How My Song Began
In the pink bedroom with the pink shag rug, two windows faced the maple tree and our suburban Maryland street, 67th Avenue. I lived in this house in Parkway Estates all my growing-up years. At night when it was very quiet, I could hear a train whistling miles away in Cheverly, or traffic rushing on…
Helping My Brother Through the Door
“Don’t you do what Ginny did,” my brother Terry said angrily. It was 1974. We were in Maryland at our parents’ home, talking about giving our hearts to Jesus, which our older sister Ginny had recently done. Terry was the big brother I had fought with growing up, but dearly loved. I was 19, and…
The Nearness of God 