Yesterday I was driving on the bumpy roads deep in the heartland of Mexico surrounded by smells, colors, and people that were completely foreign to me a week earlier. This morning I am sitting in my favorite Pittsburgh coffee shop and it is hard to believe. I am slowly readjusting to the radical change…
A Mission Reflection: What is God Calling You to Remain Faithful In?
Crowded streets. Women covered from head to toe. Men stare as I walk by. Hagglers approach to sell the item of the day. Hood on my head, hands in my pocket trying to fight off the chill flowing from the sea through the city. With each step I feel my legs become stronger, as walking is…
A poem about hands
Sometimes my mom talks with her hands As if what is bundled inside Her feelings, thoughts, emotions, meanings, motives, intentions, passions All that constructs the fluid terrain of intangibles Within this elemental entanglement Were locked and needed escape And could only through painting a narration In the dance of her fingers The slide of…