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When dying is beautiful

I wish you could have seen it–the mountains surrounding my home. They were breathtaking (I struggle for a better word) this morning. Golden and rust colored mounds swollen with pigment, giving off the warmest glow. Shafts of light breaking through the sky,...

In which I risk being vulnerable…

I walk from my suburban towards the red double doors of our church suddenly aware of what I am here to do. It is one of the great things about my life: I am usually too busy to contemplate any plunges I am taking until the step into abyss is upon me. And since I am...