On the Death of my Mother

On the Death of my Mother


On the Death of my Mother

It was the call I was dreading.  The hospice nurse phoned during chapel at the seminary with the news: “Your mother has 24-48 hours to live.”  At 95, my mother had been in decline for about six months, and in rather severe decline for almost 3 ½ weeks, from just before Christmas.  So out I ..

Working Back from the End to Today

Working Back from the End to Today


Working Back from the End to Today

You can’t know what something means until it is finished. If you drive by a construction site on your way to work, day after day, you’ll see a work in progress; beams going up, trusses for the roof, then eventually walls, insulation, windows, shingles, siding, and then you can decide if you like the house ..

Hands, Life, and Hope in Holy Week

Hands, Life, and Hope in Holy Week


Hands, Life, and Hope in Holy Week

This week, I’m thinking about his hands.  They were large, strong hands that loved to work with wood—strong hands that were “skilled at the plane and the lathe.”  Many of the items in his house were created by his labors on the lathe, at the saw—“dovetail” is a term that had a literal meaning for ..