A Literary Hajj
The road to the Two Hearted River is not an easy one.
The road to the Two Hearted River is not an easy one.
It’s a typically bustling city now silent and eerie, “Jingle Bell Rock” echoing forlornly down the avenues.
When is the last time
You knew what you wanted?
I believe that God sees enough glimmers of faith and goodwill in our everyday conduct to keep Him convicted of our worth.
I still see Betelgeuse on camping trips with friends and family, and I still think of it as mine.
I’ve never quite understood the call of the West, a siren song so strong that some will risk—and lose—their lives to follow it.
The sun keeps rising everyday, whether you wake early to see it or not. (Every now and then, you should wake early.)
Seagulls—by land, sea or any other name—are seagulls. They’re annoying birds, but they’re honest ones.
At every milestone I’ve consciously met in this life, I’ve supposed that I’ll feel somehow different on the other side.
Because when it comes to people I know who are both 1. my age and 2. genuinely proud of our country, the list grows thin.