The Girl Who Cannot Speak

Every Thursday night the woman leaves her house and drives over soft hills to the home of an Amish family. She walks up to the door, and they let her in with smiles and the typical Amish greeting of a handshake, a nod, a kind word. They walk her to the bedroom of one of their daughters.

The woman walks in and holds the girl. Perhaps she reads to her from time to time – I’m not sure. The girl does not respond, or at least not in an obvious way. She was shot in the head years ago, and she has never recovered completely. The fact that she lives is a miracle. Perhaps now her eyes show some recognition of the kind woman who comes to her house every Thursday. Perhaps the touch of a smile graces the child’s mouth. I don’t know for sure. Read more

What Money Never Tells You

Maile and I came home from our four-year stint in England bruised and battered. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was burned out from working too many hours for too many years under too much stress. A business that just didn’t quite take off, adjusting to a new culture, being away from home, employees stealing from us: the cumulative affect of those years was like a layer of barnacles on an old ship. Problem is, when they were scraped away, there wasn’t anything left of me. Read more

What My Son Wants to be When He Grows Up

Each child at the Thanksgiving program stood from their seat and said what they wanted to be when they grew up. My children happened to go first.

Cade rose, a smile on his face, and proudly proclaimed: “Writer!”

Then Lucy, always a little bashful, always looking for that thin ray of acceptance: “Librarian.”

For the last few weeks, these have been the career choices. Not too long ago they were policeman and gardener. And before that something else. Read more

Tough Mudder Recap – Idiots for Friends

“I have idiots for friends,” was a thought that passed through my mind more than one time yesterday as we plowed through the Tri-State Tough Mudder in New Jersey. The cold water, the mud, the 12-mile course…all took a mental and physical toll as the afternoon proceeded.

The thing is, the phrase “idiots for friends” began taking on a different tone as the day progressed. Read more

Theology is No Substitute for Time Spent Waiting Under an Oak Tree

I have an eight-year-old son now. He’s skinny, like I was. He’s (mostly) gentle, a rule follower, and he prefers playing with Legos by himself in his bedroom and please stay out unless you are offering food.

Check, check and check – just like I used to be.

I remember late on Saturday afternoons, when I was his age, I would hear my dad shouting out of the farmhouse. His voice moved like a ripple. Read more