Still, it remains in my mind some days later, the picture of the children's shoes outside the front door of the house on a warm Sunday afternoon. I can feel the warm breeze blowing through the front door, hear the weeping of children, and feel the sting of death - and there was my little girl in the middle taking part in the "ministry of presence."
One of the most painful experiences for any parent is to let their children spread their wings and fly. The first time I had to let go was in 2003 when my son Tommy left Africa to attend university Stateside. I wrote a poem for him, as I have for each one when they left. 2003 wasn't so long ago, was it?
What difference does it make to help only a few instead of thousands?
I wrote this in 2015 remembering my mother and wanted to reshare on the anniversary of her death 12 years ago. I love you Aiti, always. I tucked in my seven-year-old daughter last night and inhaled deeply as I looked around her room. She had a night light. She had her music. She had her… Continue reading The Last Time Mama Tucked Me In
We always think we know better.
I have four children, each one is precious to me. My firstborn was the first: the first child born to our family, the first one we taught to walk, the first one we walked to school, and the first one to leave home. He was the "trial run" that paved the way for his siblings.… Continue reading The Paintbrush…
Normal life events take us by surprise: marriage, children, moving, all of them throw curve balls at us that we had no training on how to catch. More often than we care to admit, we arrive at those events unprepared.
Please keep Malawi, which, has been listed as the poorest nation in the world in 2016, in your hearts and prayers.
We’ve often quoted Mark 10:14 where Jesus says, “…Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God.” But have we really understood what it means to come as a child?