i just feel like crying. my daughter is a beautiful, troubling mix of all that is good and humble; bad and willful. just like yours. i’m glad my children are in bed. i’m frustrated with them and with myself. i fail so often. i wake up with the intentions of loving god and everyone in
mexican town
just got back from said town. mexican town is a few blocks of goodness nestled under the shadow of the ambassador bridge in downtown detroit. as my mother and i were leaving, the host on duty took a liking to us. i’m not sure if he had a glass eye or not, but he didn’t
blind and deaf
i catch myself this morning thinking of everyone else scripture applies to. but it’s me. i am the blind one. i am the deaf one. i am the servant god depended upon that looked and never saw, that heard and listened to nothing. ‘it enveloped them in flames, yet they did not understand; it consumed