Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart

Barb, bless her little cotton socks, is hard at work transforming parts of the yard...making safe footing for me, so I can walk the dogs. Be...

Past the sorrow of losing my service dog, Ladron, past the rapidly increasing infirmity of cancer (Barb needed to replace a ceiling fan, and...

 Snow melts from the temple eaves, and the first tears of spring fall to the stones. RIP Ladron, my PTSD service dog. August 2008-July 12, 2...

God made you, yeah? Knew you before the womb? OK, maybe you've gone off the rails. We all do, to some degree. But when Jesus makes all t...

People ask, with a dreadful diagnosis, and awful symptoms (I can see tumours in the mirror, for Pete's sake!)...why are you still here? ...

Just for a change of pace, here's an old Catholic joke, set to rhyme. (I'm Catholic, so I guess it's OK for me to tell?) The can...

The author Steven Coonts once said that a young person should never whittle down dreams to fit into his or her hometown. True for cancer, as...