how to see April in January.

Please do not let the title scare you. I am not in possession of a crystal ball or tarot cards, although I will confess in my younger years I was a big fan of the Magic 8 ball.  But none of those things is required for me to tell you how to see April in January.  This past Friday I made a familiar trip to the bus station. One of my girls from prison was being { read more… }

palindrome whispers.

Wanna learn something new and practically useless? Of course you do. That’s why you google so often.  So here’s goes: The longest palindrome is tattarrattat. Don’t know what a palindrome is, please google. No, I did not make that word up. Please google to double-check. Tattarrattat is onomatopoeic (now you’re googling something else), and it  means knock on the door. It was coined back in 1922. And did you know that there are palindrome phrases, too? Like “Mr Owl ate my { read more… }

what couch cushions can teach us about prayer.

We currently do not own a couch, so I feel a tad bit deceitful with this title. And since it’s completely my fault we are couchless because I gave away a perfectly good leather couch so I could have a trendy new white couch… and despite all the best promises of the salesperson, said new white couch stayed white exactly two days, after which I no longer liked or wanted it. So we’ve been couchless the last year because can you { read more… }


“You’re going to feel like hell someday if you don’t tell your story.” As a general rule, I don’t use profanity. Please don’t read any smugness into that statement, as I fight a sharp tongue, sarcasm, and all sorts of other trash talk on a regular basis. I keep Psalm 141:3 on repeat in my prayers as both confession and petition. I do; however, tend to avoid most four letter words except if I stump my toe, you’ll likely hear me say, “Cuss. Cuss. Cuss.” It { read more… }

i’ll leave the Light on for you.

True story: I slept with the light on until I was 20 years old… and got married. I’d had a perpetual fear of the dark. I was pretty sure there were no monsters under my bed or in the closet, but the control freak in me at least wanted to be able to see whatever otherwise might get me while I was sleeping. I’d like to say I conquered my fear of the dark when { read more… }

the Lord’s Supper with a prison spoon.

I had the Lord’s Supper twice on Christmas Eve: One was at an evening church service; the other was lunch at the Hilltop Women’s Prison Unit. One consisted of Broadman’s Traditional Unleavened Bread and grape juice; the other was tamales made out of Doritos, spam, and summer sausage and a Coke Zero. One was served by an ordained pastor and deacons in our church; the other was served by incarcerated women behind the fences. One was provided through the { read more… }