Small Hours
A poem about the particular quality of light at 4am, when the world hasn't decided yet what kind of day it's going to be.
Continue reading → On Patience, Which Is Not What I Thought It Was
I used to think patience was a kind of waiting. I've come to believe it's something closer to attention — a refusal to look away from what is difficult.
Continue reading →A Brief Theological Reflection on Self-Checkout
The self-checkout machine has replaced the confessional as the place where our deepest moral failures are made visible to strangers.
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