I think every good farmer knows that the best source of nitrogen is good ol’ fashioned poop. I’ll let you make of that metaphor what you will.
There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
A poem that I don’t want to forget.
If we can’t believe just because we’ve been told it, then we need to get our hands dirty.
It takes a lifetime for that Easter joy to keep seeping into our dry bones
A Jesus poem published in the Kenyon Review. Putting it here so I don’t lose it or forget it.
“Sure, it’s okay. Ego te
We know how this pilgrimage will end, because we have the guidebook. We’ve been here before.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
ere through the world our way we take;
till in the ocean of thy love
we lose ourselves in heaven above.
Sermon preached on Luke 18:9-14 at my Field Placement parish, Christ Church Bronxville. I do not have a recording from that day, but I gave the sermon again for my Preaching class in Nouwen Chapel. Enjoy.