Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes. How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after...

Continue Reading

Of course, only a thought in the shower could have compelled me to come back and write. We live in a strange time. Where there is no war in my country and crime rates are lower than ever.  And yet, as I run soap and steaming water over my skin, I wonder if that skin might feel the piercing blow of bullets pass...

Continue Reading