Once in my life I knew a grief so hard I could actually hear it inside, scraping at the lining of my stomach, an audible ache, dredging with hooks as rivers are dredged when someone's been missing too long. I have to think my mother felt something like that.

When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

Fresh peach pie can lift a bullying reprobate into apologetic courtesy; I have watched it happen.

Fair is whatever God wants to do.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

Once traveling, it's remarkable how quickly faith erodes. It starts to look like something else--ignorance, for example. Same thing happened to the Israelites. Sure it's weak, but sometimes you'd rather just have a map.

Is there a single person on whom I can press belief? No sir. All I can do is say, Here's how it went. Here's what I saw. I've been there and am going back. Make of it what you will.