One of the problems with our perishability is that it forces us to look in a particular direction. In many ways we are like an ancient sailor always with one eye to the edge of the ocean, whose mind cannot fully take in the beauty of the night sky without worrying about falling off of the earth. And we look, not towards something but sadly, towards nothing at all. For though our death will come at a particular moment it will actually be the end of our moments, our mutability

Having worked at my computer for what seemed like many hours, I came upstairs expecting a breather. What I heard though could have easily taken my breath away. “She’s dead,” my little five year old Jonah told me with much seriousness, “but don’t worry, she’ll come back again.” Standing over his little sister (who did indeed looked dead), Jonah stretched out his arms and then said with much confidence, “Sophia get up.” You see, Jonah was having a busy morning. Up to that point

For Christmas Kyla and I made the executive decision to allow one of our children to get into the sport of archery. Nothing serious mind you. We began by purchasing a child’s bow, along with a few arrows that cannot really hurt if they happen to miss the target. Our child was ecstatic. Within a day or two he had become quite proficient, besting even me as I tried to look somewhat competent at something I had done many years before. But then… …the snow came. And needless to sa

Kyla was about to go outside into the backyard without her shoes on… …breaking one of her golden rules. All of us must wear shoes in the backyard… …it’s kind of her thing. But before she could, our four year old spy saw the infraction. “You don’t have shoes!” Jonah said in exasperation. “That’s because I’m naughty,” Kyla playfully replied, hoping to still emphasize the point that breaking the rules is not a good thing. Her statement did not have the desired effect. Jonah’s fa