We do not want to be apart. For each member of our family, including him, this is the hardest part of our sacrifice. We love him, and he loves us.

I am the light you cannot see, searching, piercing – not the mild sunlight of a summer day or the glimmer of candle and firelight, but the unescapable blaze of a streetlight on a deserted parking lot when all around is darkness.

I love you.

In a white country church house with six pews on the right and six pews on the left, I formed my first ideas of God and his people.

This summer, our family was given the gift of a photoshoot by a friend of ours who is just setting up his side gig of photography.

We have been ferried up, up, up the excruciating climb, full of dread and horror. Now we creep over the edge and hang poised.