Stranger at the pay phone

“They’ve stopped the bleeding,” my husband said from an emergency room 600 miles away. “He’ll be fine. Just get here when you can.” Our five-year-old son had been hit in the head while taking golf lessons in our Dallas backyard from an unprofessional instructor – his...

Choosing Communion

Dipping a pinched piece of bread into a chalice of grape juice under a raised basketball hoop, I glanced at my daughters as they lifted the sacraments to their lips. Grace and I had driven an hour and a half north on an icy Sunday morning to go with Emmali to her...