The Crossing

The strong winds are driving the angry surf against the shoreline as I sit in the compound waiting for a late ferry.  Memories of my life on Grand Manan Island remind me that late-fall crossings are absolutely unpredictable.  I am not in control. My stomach does a...

Angel . . . a friend in the making.

Her name is Angel. She works the night shift at a certain coffee shop in town. The patrons stand, zombie-like, in line, one behind the other, in the early morning, pre-coffee stupor. And as they stand there, for lack of intellectual stimulation, they complain about...

7 Danes A Week

I am without question, a creature of habit. Perhaps one of the most frustrating questions that I am asked is, “What’s New?”. It is a lazy, nearly rhetorical inquiry, that hardly deserves a sensible response. I want to say, “New England, New...

Let’s Pretend

Hey . . . the top of another week . . . Sunday is 24 hours into the history books . . . and I feel like playing.  So let me invite you to play with me. Let’s pretend. We used to do that when we were kids.  When you pretend, you can be anyone that you want to be and...

Fingernails

It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to me when someone says that the church is a business. That’s like saying a snake is a broom, a skunk is a kitty cat or a pastor is a CEO. I apologize for this confusion because most of us have aspired at some point to...

Labor Day Ramblings

Labor Day Weekend . . . if I wasn’t the pastor I am not sure that I would go to church tomorrow. I suspect by now that I would be wherever people go on these long weekends.  That’s sort of like the missing sock and the dryer.  You know you put two socks in . . . but...