Bravest Thing (He Ever Did)

 A friend snapped this picture of me receiving Holy Communion at the Mass for Christ the King. There's a lot going on here. In particular, there are two aspects that really struck me. The first is the priest's face. There is an intense care on his face. He has this look as though he's giving me everything he can, everything he has, to help me become a holy husband/father. Of course, what he is giving is everything I could ever want or need. Thank you Father W. The second aspect concerns my three-year-old son beside me. He's staring at me as I receive, gazing with interest and awe. I never knew this. I'm thankful for the picture. Such moments must play a crucial role in his spiritual development. So we have the action of the priest passing through me and down to my son. As God intended it to be.

Escape to the Wild Ages 10 and Up. 166 pages. Available on Amazon, mid October, 2022. Influences: Wendell Berry, Wilson Rawls, J.R.R. Tolkien, Gary Paulsen, Alexandre Dumas, Ma and Pa Kettle.   The process of writing a book is difficult to explain. I've heard author's use analogies such as "giving birth" to a book. This "bears" some truth. Being pregnant for nine months is difficult, or so I see. When the baby is born, there is much joy. And yet...the work, difficult as it has been for nine months, is really just beginning. There are many blessings and sorrows that follow. It is charming. It is chaos. It is sweet. It is stressful. Let's be honest, babies are louder on the outside versus the inside. And then, when life seems to settle down, guess what? Another baby is on the way. If you can overlook the weirdness of where this analogy is leading, then carry on. This is where I am at right now. I wrote my first book and "gave birth" to it in Mar...

Coming soon. The sequel to Disconnected: The Broken Path. Escape to the Wild Ages 10 and Up. 166 pages. Available on Amazon, late October/early November, 2022. Influences: Wendell Berry, Wilson Rawls, J.R.R. Tolkien, Gary Paulsen, Alexandre Dumas, Ma and Pa Kettle.   * * * Two days later Ben was out by the river, fishing with John-Paul and John-John. Little three-year-old John-Darr also tagged along.   The boys had caught a few trout an hour earlier, but as the heat of the sun beat down, the fish stopped biting. They decided to come back in the evening when the fishing would be better.   Not wanting to leave the river just yet, John-John suggested they catch crayfish instead. And so the boys rolled up their pant legs and waded out in a shallow area of the river where rocks rested and slimy weeds grew. Turning over rocks and grabbing at the crayfish soon mesmerized the boys. Laughing, they snatched at the little creatures, counting aloud who was in the lead for the most ca...

We decided, somewhat last minute, to take a quick one-night camping trip this weekend. I suppose there are a few reasons why: 1) The school year has already been off to a rough start. Gotta clear my head after just two weeks. 2) Our summer, by and large, was quite difficult. The newborn was colicky, and it made life unbearable at times. 3) When we did finally brave the world and go to the mountains for a crazy week of camping, it was glorious. It should've been a total train wreck. It was the opposite. 4) And now that we know our little guy loves the outdoors so much, we want to get out more in order to make up for the lackluster summer. 5) Oh, and it never hurts to be able to get in a traditional Latin Mass, and see some family/friends. Check out the hiking/camping expedition here: But I really want to "camp out" on point #2. I've heard it from several teachers I work with. And I heard it several times from family and friends this weekend. For far too many people tha...

  It is late on a Friday night. The van is packed, ready for a major adventure. I am alone in our living room, staring out into a dark night. Four of the kids are asleep. Becca is downstairs with baby Ben (8 weeks old). Things are not good. I go down and see, and hear, Ben screaming his mind out. This is not unusual. All summer he's been colicky. The worst we've ever seen with a baby, and that's saying something. Becca is holding him, sitting on the floor, crying. This is too much. We can't go. There's no way.  But we can't stay, either. We've been stuck at home all summer. More than that, this proposed trip is not so much a vacation (ha! not at all), but a significant milestone. Ten months earlier I was facing a job loss, thanks to a draconian vaccine-mandate announcement. You know how it goes. At one point things seemed pretty hopeless. At that moment I turned to Becca and said, "I don't know how, but somehow, someway, we are going to make it to T...