“Yes.”  One word, falling to my desk like a stone; a rock; a chunk of ice.  For years, I’d driven past the school, Baby Boy strapped in behind me.  I’d

We were seated in church on Palm Sunday, voices raised in corporate worship, singing this song: “Hosanna!  Hosanna! You are the God who saves us, Worthy of all our praises!

“Ordain all of my appointments.” In this single prayer, there is a turning to Him, a surrendering of who and what and when.  It’s an act of faith, feeble though

“The Lord is my shepherd,” I said to him. “The Lord is my shepherd.”  He repeated it back. “I shall not want.” “I shall not want,” he said. “That means,”