Category Archives: Grand Rapids
That’s how I realized, or decided: the spoon rest is the pinnacle of kitchen goods.
1:15 p.m. “Ope, it’s 1:15, I’ve got to run now,” he says. “Thank you, great to meet you.”
I promise, I will tell the story about the two-foot flames licking at the burners when I cracked open the oven door.
This year, and any time you play Dark Souls, you will rush into something, and you will fail. You will take your time at something, and you will fail—even at something you’ve done easily a hundred times before.
But when my granddaughter asks if the injustices mattered to me, my words will mean nothing unless I was there. So, we went.
This February, the Alaskan Way Viaduct will be disassembled. Trucks and cranes will shake loose the concrete foundations before an earthquake has the pleasure, and I’m beginning to realize that I will never be able to leave Seattle the way I came.
When a man approached me in the mall food court and sheepishly asked if I had a few minutes to talk about Jesus, I reflexively smiled and said, “Oh, I’m already a Christian!” before realizing I wasn’t completely lying this time.
Thick, globby specks of white dotted the sky, like Impressionist brushstrokes viewed too close up.
He did not use grand showmanship or elaborate displays. He used simple, humble, everyday love.
“What if we had never met? had broken up in college? were still dating and living apart?” one of us will ask the other.