The Lost Kid
He stood, watching and waiting for the moment his son would come home. He ran to him, burst into tears, embraced him in his filth. Hugged his child that smelled like swine and that had wished his own death. It’s Lent. This past Sunday was the Sunday of the Prodigal Son. Often we talk about … Continue reading The Lost Kid →
Sorry, mom: On Lenten Warfare.
I am not a morning person. When someone says, “Good morning!” to me, I’m usually thinking, “What’s so good about it?” Usually, however, I don’t articulate that aloud. It’s not polite. I’m also stubborn and obstinate. Then, there’s my mother. She’s obsessed with cleanliness. If she could choose one superhero ability, it wouldn’t be invisibility … Continue reading Sorry, mom: On Lenten Warfare. →