Family


Children’s Book

I’d like to take this time to officially announce that I’m writing a children’s book with my son. We started writing it a few years back. I just finished putting together a query letter, which I’m sending to Kregel Publications. I’m sharing it with you now to get some honest feedback. Please leave a comment if this is a story …Continue reading →

Going Home

Ron Arko was my spiritual father, my Paul and my Barnabas, always encouraging me, my writings, and my blog posts. He was always there for me when I needed him. The irony is that I need him here right now to help me get through his going home. Wounded you stepped onto the battlefield, while others walked away disheartened from …Continue reading →

Blurred Lines of Morality

What to do when you feel overwhelmed about the blurred lines of morality? What to do when you feel grieved over the cross-pollination of good and evil, right and wrong, in our ever-changing culture? There’s been so much media-attention recently concerning the political views and actions of the Right and the Left. There’s a presidential election on the horizon and …Continue reading →

A Purring Kitten

I watch you curled up on my lap like a purring kitten. Your ear–a pink nautilus shell, an ocean of internal wonder, a finely-tuned miracle–receives a range of auditory frequencies, including the soft whisper of my voice calling your name as you sleep. The ambient sound of spontaneous cooing does not ask your permission. Colorful waves of light for your …Continue reading →

Gentle Strength/Una Fuerza Gigante con una Ternura tan Grande

In Memory of My Beloved Uncle, Teacher, and Friend: Dr. José Thomas Campos The man that wisdom sought plucked at life’s virtuous string. What a melody you’ve made: your grandchildren skip in stride, while integrity sleeps soundly by our side. The stranger with gentle eyes is no stranger at all, but a challenge to make new memories come alive. Never …Continue reading →

Father

I wrote this poem about my relationship with my father a long time ago, but I always return to it like a homeless wanderer returning to his ole home town. I miss the way we’d hold hands At night As you dreamt of your pilot days And restless pride. I held your thick fingers And you cupped my lil hand …Continue reading →

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