On Growing, Learning, and the Fallacy of "Stupidity"When I was a boy, small in size but full of questions, I learned early that the world had a way of shaping you into something or someone else. It was a harsh world, one where to be anything less than perfect was to be looked at as foolish, as stupid. The boys in school, the teachers, even the men

She had prayed so long her knees knew the shape of the floor.At night, when the house was quiet and the glow of the phone had finally gone black, she would sit at the edge of her bed and talk to God the way lonely people do. Not with fine words. With need.“Send me a man who is not a boy,” she said.“Send me someone brave. Honest. Loyal. A man

"How Do I Know There Is a God?" You know what I love about writing? No one can interrupt me. As a kid, I had so much to say but was always cut off—misunderstood. People thought they’d heard enough… but later wished they’d let me finish. I meant well. I always did.In the early mornings in the woods drinking a hot cup of coffee, a man has tim