Sometimes life comes at you like a fire hose.
Or a garden hose, anyway.
Continue readingIt started out as one of those little wins, a dash of serendipity to brighten the day.
Continue readingI witnessed a bit of a jailbreak yesterday, a feat almost nine years in the making.
Continue readingI’m thinking maybe we should open a bed-and-breakfast. We now certainly have the sheets for it.
Continue readingThere was a moment when I could sense the Presence, a rushing in.
Continue readingEarly, on the first day of the week, Easter dawns … with lightning, thunder, rain … in my little corner of the world.
Continue readingThere’s nothing sacred about a crucifixion.
Continue readingAt last arrives the time for a personal “hosana” or two. Fortunately, it comes with a lesson.
Continue readingIt’s a good 400 paces, maybe 450, heading north from the Visitor’s parking lot to the Gatehouse at Menard Correctional Center. Once inside, you retrace almost every one of those steps, heading south along Front Street, in order to reach the Chapel.
No big deal on a nice day. But when nasty weather rears, the walk can be brutal.
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