Breit Spot

Well—we did it. We got on the plane. After four months of playing some crazy game show of “Pack, Trash, Sell or Give?” with all our stuf...

I’ve wondered for awhile now how I would write this post; what I would say. Eight hundred words seems only enough to barely outline the dime...

And…we’re gone. We wrangled our carry-ons into that taupe-colored hum of a 757, bound for six months stateside. (After the lunacy of the w...

Sometimes it’s hard for me to locate the goodness of God in poverty. A project with a Ugandan friend of mine, completing her counseling in...

It was one of those weeks when the phrase from the Morton salt box from my childhood had to occasionally be batted from my mind:  When it r...

A few Sunday afternoons ago, while on his bicycle, my eleven-year-old was hit by a motorcycle. While he was applying his brakes, slidin...

I have been waiting. The dust, fine and red, coats the plants lining our roads. Sweat beads on my upper lip. Last night as my children lay...