Cade grabbed my arm, urgency written all over his face.
“Dad, what day is it?”
“Um, August 24th?”
“No, the day? You know, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday –“
“Oh, yeah, it’s Wednesday.”
His face wrinkled up in thought. Continue reading “The Best Friday Night This Dad Has Ever Had”
I have a lot in common with my dad. (Somewhere in the space-time continuum, my fourteen-year-old self is screaming in agony at that sentence).
We both like to have our alone time. We both like communicating with people. And perhaps most importantly (drum roll please)…
We both have an inexplicable disdain for cold water.
Hold that thought. Continue reading “Should I Run the Tough Mudder?”
Twenty months have passed since Maile and I came to the conclusion that I should write for a living. Some days I wake up with this almost paralyzing fear that the day will come when our finances will dictate that I cannot do this anymore – other days I’m scared that I might HAVE to do this for the rest of my life.
Continue reading “Confessions, After Twenty Months of Making My Living as a Writer”
Many times we forget, as writers, that it is our responsibility to learn more about the craft. Too many times we fall into the trap of believing that the only way to improve our writing is to just keep writing. The good stuff is somewhere inside of me, we often think. It will come out if I write enough words. Continue reading “Writers: Respect Your Readers (or, Seven Ways to Improve Your Style)”
We parked illegally along a yellow curb in the school parking lot, just up the street from my grandmother’s single-story home. My kids poured out of the van like four puppies, dashing across the street while our warnings rained down on them.
“Watch out for cars!”
“Somebody hold Sammy’s hand!”
Seems like just about everyone in the area knows my grandma. Most just call her Mom Smucker. She sat in a lawn chair off to the side of her garage, still wearing her small covering and a plain blue dress. She doesn’t always remember my name anymore. Her recent stroke has turned her own mouth into a choking hazard, and even her skin has begun to fail her – small scratches take months to heal.
I walked up and bent over, spoke very close to her face. I kissed her cheek and she grabbed on to my chin with her vice-like grip, as if she could determine who I was by squeezing hard enough. Continue reading “Watching Someone’s Life Get Sold Out From Under Them”
After reading Jason’s post and all of your comments, which were incredible by the way, these are some of my thoughts on the church.
Churches can be backstabbing, hypocritical, judgmental places full of control-hungry individuals whose only concern is to perpetuate an us-versus-them mentality.
Churches can also be wonderful places, where people experience true love and community for the first time in their lives. I’ve seen this happen, and it’s incredible. Continue reading “How to Change the Church”
