Your Jesus who dons a red cap and brandishes the American flag on the steps of an earthen fortress to demand the restoration of God’s nation is not my Jesus. Your Jesus cover boy of your eleventh hour attempt to wake sleepers dead to the demise of God’s chosen democracy is not my Jesus. Your […]More
Sprays of forget-me-nots. Skies gone green, pink, and purple on cold winter nights. My new definition of isolation. These are musings and stories about the real-life highs and lows on America’s Last Frontier.