AUGUST ORCHARD
Anyone see a poem in there?
Anyone see a poem in there?
Twelve months before his death, Martin asked me to officiate his memorial service.
There are only two kinds of religion: The religion of being right and the religion of being kind.
I inadvertently found out that my first-ever best friend died last month. I didn’t weep. I gasped.
I don’t like Stephen Miller. Maybe Jesus does, but I don’t.
Just when you think Jesus loves and forgives everybody, it turns out he doesn’t.
Two hundred million of us will be affected. But, alas, another type of storm is gathering.
The Magical Mystery Tour is coming to take you away.
My friend and I have a tacit agreement not to speak of the elephant in the room.
We don’t need astronomers to explain the Bethlehem star.
Thanks to Old Scratch I’ll be posting a reflection on something I find remarkable in and around our world most every Sunday morning.
Read more about the devil’s role in my life in “This Little Light of Mine” under Let Love Arise in the menu bar.

I reached a personal milestone yesterday. Alas, there were no fireworks and no parades.

Soccer is a beautiful game, my sons told me years ago. I couldn’t see what they saw, but I’m beginning to.

I'm a soccer fan but not a fanatic. Alas, the game releases the inner barbarian.

Today is my birthday. I was born in 1947. Let's hear if for the boomers!
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