It was Sunday, October 29, 2017, in High Point, North Carolina. I had pulled in my parents' driveway on my way home from church, as I often did in those days. Somehow their sweet spirits lingered in their house among all their precious things, even though my father had passed away at the end of June and my mother had died a week before Christmas in 2016. Losing them six months apart had taken a toll I was not capable of comprehending at that time. My own health had broken

Sunlight on a bird wing And moonlight on a rose— Silver threads of heaven Woven into gold— Breaths of mountain...

For all the hopes that died with time, For all the dreams now dust-- For all the trinkets of the past Encrusted now...

Jenkins' "Chosen" Jesus said no one can serve both God and mammon. Neither can anyone serve both truth and relatability. By...

I loved you in your perfect health When duty filled your day-- I love you now in shifting sands Where no one knows...

To heal is to grow older And leave a special scar-- To square the aching shoulder And still the pounding heart . . ....

We travel numb across the years In lonely hours of thought-- Remember all that Time has brought And crown Today with...

Most of what I have learned about teaching over the course of many years in the classroom has nothing to do with professional learning...

Faith smells a flower in winter, when all is dormant and dead; Sees beyond tangible darkness a glorious sunrise...

Life knows some hours of poetry But most of them are prose-- Some treasured notes of symphony, Far more of monotones....