When I was a little kid in the late 80s, my dad was on staff at a large church. A large church building, situated in inner city Memphis. It’s glory days long over, the steeple rose above Elvis Presley Blvd, like a weary beacon of hope for a neighborhood in need. If my dad had… Continue reading The Church is Not Our Home
When I was in grad school I drove an old clunker. But he was the first car that was all mine, so I loved him. The night dad brought him home we all threw names in a hat and I drew “Oswalt”out. Ozzie the Oldsmobile he was. The problem with Ozzie was that he was… Continue reading The Election’s Over: What Next?