The Barbershop

Behind this type of play, though, is a genuine longing for beauty—a desire not only to appreciate the beautiful things one has seen or read or heard, but also to attempt to…

Yet at times, if only for a moment, I feel the shadow over my days is transformed into pure spirit. Such thoughts give me a surprising sense of quiet joy.

Knowing your family’s past fugitives and pretty boys is the kind of localism anyone can aspire toward and practice.

With a clear sky above us, no one restricting our movements, we learned—sometimes flailingly, like chickens with our heads cut off—how to marvel.

Perhaps Pippin is right, but none of the friends call Fredegar Fatty anymore, and those chaps know something about heroics.

Here, on a little patch of field in a North Texas suburb, I found life being played out in simple but significant ways.

Wallie is gone; no visible scar remains. Mourning provides no lesson, no answers, no closure. The poet is not decrying grief for its lack of utility.

In this way, “idleness as such is by no means a root of evil; quite the contrary, it is a truly divine way of life so long as one is not bored.”

Her heart is for those little ones, that they might come to know The One who became a child for our salvation and for the glory of God.

Men often reflect on their relationship with their fathers during these coincidences of milestones; a similar thing often happens when a son reaches the age his father was when the son was…

The healthy sorrow of our most melancholy president

Rational ideas create hell on earth. Just ask a kulak. Or just ask the lettuce plants in my garden.