8:18
The black of night is hard to find.
Rain is coming and the river will rise.

Locked out

February 27, 2020
Bolting the hotel room door feels like a statement.
The sun, reflecting on the water, is like a living thing.
How can a whole society lose its moral way?
Today, my devotions send me to the toy box.
Do you every wonder how you’ll be remembered?
Miami Beach is illustrating Isaiah 2 for me.
The church is a fortress.
Wouldn’t it be great if God flagged the remarkable sights around us?
Mine is a messy business.
It feels odd, walking through the wet grass in my business clothes.
The gorgeous sunrise has lured me to the banks of the Susquehanna.
The squirrels are back.
At 5:30 AM, I am playing myself in Scrabble.