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These five are one story. Read them in order if you can. Everything else on this site grows out of them.
At seven I learned the world isn’t safe, and I started asking where God goes on Mondays. Years later, as a father, I lost the last illusion that I could keep my children from what I had suffered. For a long time I tried to prove I mattered by achievement. Then I began to tell the truth instead. The tension is still there — not resolved. Just held.
The five stories
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The Playground
Seven years old, face down in the mud. Being good and smart did not keep me safe.
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The Dog in the Lake
On the walk to school I watched cruelty I could not stop — and wondered where Jesus was on a Monday.
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The Ceramic Floor
Kneeling on hard tile after my child was hurt. Control was gone. Words ran out.
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The Weight I Couldn’t Carry
I spent decades trying to prove I mattered. Then I started telling the truth about what happened.
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Trust at 4AM
Awake before dawn, still wanting a world where people can afford to trust. The ache remains.