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Out in the middle of nowhere, the old white frame building is all that remains of a heart-felt dream that, as an answer to prayer,
James C. Schaap
September 27, 2019
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Out in the middle of nowhere, the old white frame building is all that remains of a heart-felt dream that, as an answer to prayer,
It’s not a particularly good picture, but it’ll have to do. That’s our house up at the top, maybe fifty yards or so away from
I don’t know how exactly–or who–told me I had to read Beloved. I do remember having a single copy of three Toni Morrison novels–one of them
Hattie says that just before her mother got married, she’d left the farm to start working in a grocery in Springfield, SD, where some young
Let me tell you a story: Fifteen years ago, I was in line at a grocery store, behind two Hispanic men checking out. The clerk—a
Could be an early 20th century shot from a lot of places on the map. There’s a hill up the street, but the place looks
After just about forty years of teaching students from all over the continent, I came to believe, grudgingly, that no geographic group adored their “homeland”
I didn’t know him–couldn’t have. He was killed four years before I was born. For years I wouldn’t have known his story any more fully
Last night I couldn’t help thinking of an old story told to me long, long ago by an organist–the organist, the very one who’d been asked
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