For Wilshire Baptist Church
It’s the strangest sensation to poke around on Facebook and click through a string of friends of friends of friends and suddenly peek into the lives of people you once were close to but you haven’t seen in decades and haven’t even thought about.
Continue reading “Fellow Time Travelers”For Wilshire Baptist Church
“Hmm . . . that’s interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“Your pulse skips a beat.”
I was sitting in the Carter BloodCare mobile unit at Wilshire a couple of weeks ago, going through blood donor prescreening, when everything came to a halt. The young woman checking my pulse let go of my wrist and called her supervisor over. He checked it too and concurred: “Your pulse skips a beat about every 30 seconds.” After asking me some questions about my health and conferring with an on-call doctor on the telephone, they let me give a pint of blood.
Continue reading “Skipped Beats”For Wilshire Baptist Church
My absolute very first conscious memory is looking out upon a montage of sharp black and white shapes, feeling frightened and crying at the confusion of the contrasts, and yet sensing safety in the clutch of a hand holding mine. All my senses seemed to be firing in that moment, and maybe that’s why I remember it before all others. I’ve asked my mother about this, and she says that in the winter of 1960 when I was one year old, it snowed in Richardson, and she thinks she probably took me out on the back patio to look at the white snow beginning to cover the black dirt of the new, grassless yard.
Continue reading “Cold but Safe”