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    Prayer for Chronic Pain Suffers

    It’s two in the morning. A hot tumbler of peppermint tea sits to the side of my computer. In a sleepy stupor, I watch mesmerized, as the steam dissipates into the chilly morning air. I am hoping that my first sip will help to soothe “what-ails-me.” No answers to chronic pain keep me awake. I pray. I struggle. I sort out all I have done to find answers. I take another long, hard look at the answers I do have. Yet, in all this, the real answer alludes me and doctors alike. So, it is mornings like this that I find myself writing, praying, thinking of other chronic-pain-suffers, who also…

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    FEAR. FRENZY OR FAITH

    Walking through the grocery store yesterday I stopped to talk with a friend who was also shopping. As we chatted between the crossroads of chips and dairy, I became aware of my surrounding. “Stop and listen.” I told him. We both stopped and inquisitively looked around. The store was packed with afternoon shoppers; but no one was talking. They were quietly moving around the store loading up their carts. “Don’t you find this odd?” I asked. “That’s fear.” He observed. The day before in another larger store I came face to face with another kind of fear. It swept through the store with panic, rudeness, carts rushing the isles at…

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    A Touch of Mercy for The Oppressed

    Over the past seven years I have traveled to many local places throughout Manila, Philippines. Drawn to all things cultural and Filipino, I find delight in: a simple trike ride through local streets, a walk through the center of a neighboring Barangay, a trek along steep pathways where simple clapboard homes teeter precariously along cliff edges, a ride on a crowded unairconditioned train in which I am sandwiched shoulder to shoulder with the locals whom I have grown to love, a handkerchief covering my face from the polluted black belch of a jeep-nee I am riding in, the church that meets outside whose congregants greet me warmly with smiles that…