An American traveler planned a long safari to Africa. He was a compulsive man, loaded down with maps, timetables, and agendas. Coolies had been engaged from a local tribe to carry the cumbersome load of supplies, luggage and "essential stuff."On…
In an episode of The West Wing, CJ Craig (White House new chief of staff) is wired, tense and distracted. Danny (her love interest) shows up, middle of the workday, at her White House office, "to take her for a…
“You guys make me smile,” I tell the sheep this morning. “Thank you. I don’t feel like I need to prove anything. You all are a sanctuary for me.”They give me that look that tells me they have no idea…
“You look sad.”“I am,” I tell the sheep. “A great man died this week. And I miss him.”“What made him great?” a little one asked.“He made us better people.” I like Andrew Young’s take. John Lewis “didn't convince you by…
“I talk to people about you, just so you know,” I tell my congregation, the sheep. “I tell them that you all are the picture of serenity and contentment.”There is no affect in their faces. And I thought they’d be…
Some stories are like restorative prayers. They invite (no, they require) retelling, for the healing of our spirit and our soul.In 1942, the Nazis were actively and forcefully rounding up Jews in France. In the picturesque farming village of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon (in southern France), Reformed…
“I need your help,” I say to my congregation, the sheep, this morning. “Why does it look so easy for you to live so fully in the present moment?”My question is met with blank stares and chewing.Finally, a little one…
“Happy Father’s Day,” I tell the sheep on my walk this morning.“Why do you look tired?” one asks.“I let my spirit get on edge,” I tell them. “There’s so much to do, my world is hungry for people to step…
A young woman with a very serious case of hives went to a specialist for relief. She had suffered for some time, living in continual pain because the hives covered much of her body. She needed healing, and hoped that the…
On my walk this morning, I stop at the fence. My congregation, the sheep, are reclining contentedly in the grass. “Well,” their look asked me. “Do you have a story this week or not?”“It’s an old story,” I tell them.…
