You Can’t Whip God

This past Saturday, my grandpa would’ve turned 81. He’s been gone for almost nine years now, but he still has a message that needs to be heard. Jerry Neuhart was born in 1937 to Hilda and Frank, in the beautiful rolling hills of Southeastern Ohio. He grew up in the small town of Senecaville and... Continue Reading →

Pedal to the Metal

Her mom’s black patent leather shoes clicked over and over on the tile as she tip-toed around the kitchen. The quieter she tried to be, the more magnified the clicking was, reverberating through the house like a clanging cymbal.    My mom, a teenager about to become a parent, sat in the living room clenching... Continue Reading →

When You’re Not OK

We moved around my first 8 years. Making ends meet, keeping cars pieced together, and finding places we’d be welcome. An apartment for a bit, with Grandma and Grandpa for awhile, with one of your friends during my Kindergarten year, then into a nicer public housing complex. Cashiering wasn’t your passion and neither was putting... Continue Reading →

Remember Your Roots

I was walking out of church that last Sunday in Ohio, dangerously full of 18-year-old-swagger with all the bravado of “The Boss” himself, sick of "living in a dump like this” and ready to find the something that was happening somewhere. I heard a car pull through the parking lot and an elderly man in... Continue Reading →

We Don’t Get To Decide

The situation takes me back 9 years ago. I'm standing at the counter mopping up crumbs while I mop up tears too. Wiping up a kitchen mess while I wipe my red, swollen eyes at the same time. The familiar lessons of sovereign bullets and choosing to give thanks in the taking, quickly come to... Continue Reading →

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