Driftwood: A Psalm

The fog is heavy and blinding. The accusing voice is loud and convincing. The waves crash against my ramshackle frame. The wind tosses my beleaguered self to and fro. I’m driftwood, water logged yet still afloat. I need the Sun to burn away the fog. I long to hear the Good Shepherd’s Voice. I listen for … More Driftwood: A Psalm

The Weeping Pastor

“You’re name is NOT Jeremy!” the large, black man shouted into my ear with his thick Caribbean accent. His hands were heavy on my shoulders as he stood over me as I sat helplessly in a chair in a dim-lit room. “Your true name is Jeremiah! You are the weeping prophet!” he continued in his … More The Weeping Pastor