She kept all these things in her heart. This is what the ancient Scripture tell us. Mary kept these things in her heart, and she pondered it all. She pondered that the shepherds came to her and Joseph and their newborn to see with their very eyes; pondered the astounding news that angels had somehow […]
Mary, did you know? Read More »
It’s 5 am and still dark outside, but with a bit of jet lag this is apparently the best time for an 8-year-old to find his way downstairs to eat his breakfast Corn Pops and talk about snow. It is at Papa and Granma’s after all, and more so, it is Canada, which means, yes, snow,
Hannah wants a Canadian (snow?) burial; Jon’s right on that Read More »
It’s Entebbe, Uganda’s port of entry and departure, and we’re almost on a plane over the ocean and back to our home, the one where you can’t wear a t-shirt outside during this time of year. And on the table in front of me is an African news magazine with a picture of Nelson Mandela,
Hannah sees the judge, Nelson Mandela smiles at us Read More »
When you go through a red light and get stopped for it in a foreign country, you should always pretend that in your home country red means ‘Go!’ Then gesture wildly with your hands and speak jibberish in your native language. Unless your native tongue is English and you’re in Uganda, where pretty well everyone,
But officer, in my country red actually means ‘Go!’ Read More »
We’re waiting for the morning bell to start the school day yesterday, Jon and I, him bouncing on my knee, and a school mate comes over with the news that his family is soon leaving Uganda to fly home for Christmas, to California, but he’s worried about his dog. You see, the other day his dog got a hold
On Rob Ford, Ugandan chickens and having Nutella all over your face Read More »
We arrived at the chapel to find Timothy’s casket sitting heavy at the entrance. This, yesterday morning when we had walked down the familiar green hill to the chapel, the university chapel of dark wood and century-old brick, a place the children have known as Sunday school for some years, a place now to say
Timothy Mugisha died in his mother’s arms Read More »
It’s the other day and we’re on the streets of Uganda, on the morning school run again, this time behind a tanker truck plodding in front of us. “Danger,” it says in red letters that are big enough. Then, some distance below, near the license plate, “God bless my work.” Such open prayers and other
Lose your life, find your bliss Read More »
So, it’s Day 15 of Single Daddin It’ and we’re at the dinner table, that place of ever-illuminating discussion, and Jon blurts out, ‘Hey Dad, if you got shot, would you rather be shot in the mouth or in the eye?’ I looked up from my Kraft Dinner and hotdogs. I mean, really, has it
Hey, let’s shoot Dad! Read More »
