Junctions
While at home, I went on a walk, remembering how, after a long rain, the air would smell like cupcakes or Cheerios as the fumes from General Mills wafted over the trees and rooftops.
Mutual Respect in the Streets
One Monday morning a couple weeks ago, a man did something I should have been prepared for.
Growing into Solitude
I haven’t outgrown my loneliness, but I do think I’m growing into my own solitude.
Lows
With a new pastor in the pulpit after a long stretch of interim pastors, I’ve been hopeful. But in the past few months, we’ve hit a new series of lows.
Burn After Reading
Jesse will be your second Tinder date, and your last.
After Ezra Jack Keats and The Snowy Day
The call for diversity in children’s literature is based on the idea of windows and mirrors.
The Ones
I grew up knowing that I would not date a woman unless we were going to get married. No pressure, you’ll know when you know, but figure it out and don’t mess it up or your entire life will be ruined.
Northern Lights: A Letter to a Friend
While we were talking, your mom shouted from upstairs that we should go outside—there were northern lights showing.
Figs, Deferred
North Lawndale is a food desert.
When Enoch Was No More
Last Sunday, I stopped to get coffee before church when a woman hesitantly approached and asked if I was a Christian. I told her I was.
