The sealed door broke way to a stench of alcohol and rotting food. Weeks of laundry barely hid the minefield of beer cans that barricaded the pathway from the door to the bed. A days old lump lay motionless on the mattress, breathing just enough to signal life. Love...
As the vision for Micah became a gleam in the eyes of Fredericksburg clergy, a passionate group from our community churches loaded a bus to Washington D.C. Their pilgrimage took them to the Adam’s Morgan neighborhood, one of the most culturally diverse sections...
It was so fitting this past Lenten Sunday to hear the story in Luke 15:11-32. In the story, a man who decides to abandon his family and demand his father hand over his inheritance. He might as well, in Jewish tradition, have wished his father dead, for inheritance was...
There’s one in every crowd. No matter how much passion I pour into the story; No matter what lengths we’ve gone to help a person; and regardless of how resoundingly successful the story is, there’s always one. Sometimes they don’t say anything...
I’m occasionally accused of writing only about our Micah friends who die. So let it be known that this is not a story about one that died, but one who lived. By the time I knew her, she was “the last.” The last, of a core group of chronic homeless that once...
