History isn’t only written by the winners – everyone writes their own history. Whether we choose for our history to be a weight around our neck or wings on our back is entirely up to us.
Today is the Fourth of July, the annual day when America stops to celebrate itself. And we’ve much to celebrate – one of the youngest and yet most influential nations on the planet, we are pretty much the geopolitical equivalent of the Millennials: we came into the game early, believed we belonged, proved ourselves despite… Continue reading Independence Everyday
I fell through the ceiling in my hallway tonight. I was carrying a stupidly heavy box of books from my packed up office (a box that was so I heavy I actually thought to myself: I should probably just leave these downstairs), and since my attic doesn’t have decking (but does have a high number… Continue reading Falling Down
This morning, because he was climbing the walls, I put my son in my car and took him for a drive. We ran an errand for work first, then headed down Highway 78, eastbound. We passed through Loganville, Between, Monroe…and as the mile markers swept by, Jon asked me where we were going. “I don’t… Continue reading When Anything Was Possible
I honestly wanted to write about the Grinch today. Seriously. I got to thinking about the term “grinch” and what it’s come to mean, so I started looking up the etymology of the word, which lead to a whole bunch of searching and, somehow, me ending up at Matthew 2:13-18, commonly referred to as the… Continue reading The Massacre of Innocence