The Table
Almost every home has one. Whether it’s a dilapidated strip of wood in the midst of a small one-room shack in the hills of Chiapas,
Almost every home has one. Whether it’s a dilapidated strip of wood in the midst of a small one-room shack in the hills of Chiapas,
Catching up with a few friends recently, I mentioned that I planned to attend Redeemer Presbyterian Church within the coming weeks. “Oh, I love Redeemer,”
For the past year, this has been my neighborhood: the Aldi grocery store two minutes from my door, the Korean families having picnics on the
What confuses me is how to label myself. Although I was raised and confirmed in the Reformed Church in America, at twenty-two, I’m not sure
It started with the farmers market, where I grew addicted to the beauty of the summer rainbow of vegetables and fruits available here in Michigan.
It is the longing I first remember. I desperately wanted to be good. Of course, I tested the boundaries tightly drawn around parental definitions of
I had the opportunity to meet with a congressman a week ago. Sitting near me at that meeting was a woman who had taken the
My niece and I were collecting acorns in the driveway last week, scouring the area around the big oak tree in my brother’s yard trying
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