“Oooooomph!!!” The speeding blur barely registered on my brain before the brutal impact. My ribs cracked and all the air I had in me seemed to vacate my body. Stars filled my visual field. The old trauma nurse in me ticked off a list of possible damage; a ruptured spleen? A punctured lung? Maybe a pulmonary contusion would be my fate? Within seconds, my ribs returned their normal positions and allowed fresh air to enter my lungs and clear the stars. Finally, my assumption of

This past week, Atalia and Estuardo got married. They planned the celebration for months. Over the last few weeks, they sampled food, compared frostings and cake, tinkered with dresses until they were “just right”. They purchased candles, scouted for flowers, and searched the web for ideas for their sign-in and photo booths. Their vows were carefully written and re-written until they reflected exactly what they wanted to say. The celebration was held in the ruins of a church,

God sure works in some mysterious ways. One of the joys of living a long life is that we eventually get to a point where we can look back at our histories with a broader appreciation of what was and what could have been. How many times did younger versions of us whine about the unfairness of it all? How many times did our parents assure us that “someday, you’ll understand.” Well, that didn’t make living without a bicycle for another year any easier back then. But looking back

So Yesenia is away for the week translating for a mission team in another part of Guatemala. It’s the first week I’ve been home alone since we were married almost 18 months ago. Hopes were high that I would get a lot of writing done this week, but I can’t seem to get rolling. Mostly I spend my time trying to remember how to be alone. Then I realized that today’s date is November 11, (11/11), also known as “Singles Day” in many parts of the world. It is the opposite of Valenti

How long, Oh Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted. Life is hard. The woeful poem above could easily have been written by a Pennsylvania school studen