A Letter To My Mom

NOTE: I wrote this letter to my mom on the seventh anniversary of her going home. I thought it would be appropriate to publish it again on her special day.

To my precious mom,

I can’t believe it’s been seven years since Jesus called you home.  I sure do miss you. I can’t count the times I’ve wanted to pick up the phone and call you to share something I did or something I was looking forward to doing. Continue reading


Growing up in Shenandoah, Iowa

Do small towns or big cities provide a better place to live and raise a family?

We could discuss this question for decades and be no closer to an answer than we are when we discuss nature or nurture, or which came first: the chicken or the egg?

I can’t speak for those who grew up in sprawling, smog-covered, crime-filled, overcrowded, unfriendly, gang-infested, impersonal urban jungles, because I grew up in a quiet, peaceful small town in the heartland of America–Shenandoah, Iowa, population 5,546.

Continue reading


One teacher hated me; one tortured me


A True Southerner