Growing up, people in church often said they heard the voice of God. That He had spoken to them. And I remember wondering, what did that actually sound like? Did He yell like the pastor? Or whisper like the ushers when you walked in late to service? Were His instructions vague or specific? Did you actually follow them? Did He ever stop talking and listen to you, or was He annoyed with your choices? And really, why you? Why would He want to talk to you out of all of us? The "voice of God" was...

It's late. Sky and Shedia are fast asleep. I'm lying here in bed reaching for rest, but rest has other plans tonight. So I'm thinking about you. I wonder what you're doing right now on that ship. Whether you're bored out of your mind, staring at open water, or somewhere in the middle of something I'd rather not imagine. I think about whether you're okay. Whether you know we're all holding our breath a little on this side of the world. Mom is definitely worried. When she calls, I do my best to...

A new series where I write letters to the people who shaped me before I even knew who I was becoming. I remember you singing in the back seat of the car, sounding exactly like Mariah Carey. Not kind of like her, not doing an impression. You just sounded like that. I tried to chime in, probably on some run I had no business attempting, and someone, maybe Mom, said "Shh, let's hear Dani." I shut up. You kept singing. That's the image that comes to mind when I think about us growing up. You,...