There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.

Sitting a chair through generations looking at the art.

Who sits at your table?

Lament and praise, simply scars.

The song in the sanctuary, "Crown him with many crowns." They put a for-sale sign in the pastor's home.

Three crosses and a huge flood light show up in a Midwest town.

One flying pan hot summer day in July, I find myself walking alone the shoreline of a very large lake in Wichita. Denial is not a river Egypt.

She was met with a body search, badges, stern but nice staff, really heavy doors, and yes, an odor. And they told her if she was taken captive; they could not promise if they could get her out.

I could not find my ripcord. Reaching reaching reaching, reaching. I have 8 seconds.