She came into this world with neither hair nor enough strength to stand.

"The houses in your village have eyes. Who lives inside?"

"Summer’s hittin’ the road," says the brown grass waving in the pasture. "Winter’s a-comin’," says the north wind rattling the barn doors.

The Pharisee in today's gospel passage reminds me of a horse.

Sunlight shimmers on the surface of a small lake. Atop a nearby ridge, a massive church casts its gaze across the rolling terrain.

The bell rings for homeroom. A kid who works at the farm store gives me a nod.

When I was young, people would comment on the resemblance I bore to my father.

If you want to know the health of your soul, take a look at your credit balance.

Show me your friends, show me yourself.

The alarm rings. I yawn and stretch. The room smells of stale cigarette smoke.

If I were an artist, I would paint a portrait of the prodigal son.

"The measure with which you measure will be measured back to you."

Camouflage caps. Yellow vests. Shotguns angled across their chests.

"Home is where the heart is." We know this saying. We know it's true.

The natives referred to this region as Medicine Country A place that forces you to come face to face with yourself.

I recall the way his arm dangled out the window of a snazzy pink Pontiac. Sunglasses. Crew cut. I catch a drift of Aqua Velva aftershave.

Living in a remote part of Texas, I often find myself on the road when I should be praying the Office.

A month for all saints, all souls and visits to the cemetery.

Ever tried to block a cowboy running from a charging bull?

"Do not be afraid."