By: Sarah Morrison If you know us well, you know that Paul sometimes sleepwalks and talks, leaving me to figure out if he’s awake by asking him simple math questions (emphasis on simple). Imagine our surprise when we do some simple math (again, emphasis on simple), and we find that since our arrival in Parma, …
Category: Sarah A. Morrison
Great Grief and Earnestness
By: Sarah Morrison Here in Parma, things have settled down a bit. I’ve been reflecting on our time here, mostly in awe that we even still are here. Not because we don’t want to be, and not because we shouldn’t be, but because the only explanation for why we are here is this: God has sustained …
The Ministry of Storytelling
By: Sarah Morrison Whether it be the life of Corrie Ten Boom, the dystopia of George Orwell, or the woven novels of John Steinbeck, I love stories. I love stories because I value what they communicate about us. Humanness demandsstories. Our own stories inhale and come alive when we take in the stories of ages past. …
Choosing Cleveland
By: Sarah Morrison Have you ever read a book that seemed to know you? A book that took a deep breath and came to life, that travelled to your brain, searching its wrinkles, then reappeared to have a conversation? I found that book for me: Christie Purifoy’s Placemaker. As Paul and I have pursued more openness …
An Open Letter to Those who have Forgotten
By Sarah Morrison There’s a sound I miss hearing. The suspect buzzing between vinyl and hard glass. The sound of a fly who once flew freely in the house but saw the glorious sunlight filter through the blinds and was enticed. The sound of a fly who tried hard to get home. The sound …
The Most Expensive Thing about New York City
By: Sarah A. Morrison I recently went to New Jersey for a conference, it was my first time anywhere near New York City. Our hotel was on the Hudson, and across the river the New York skyline whispered me goodnight and good morning. I saw the silhouette of Lady Liberty, I watched the ferries traverse …
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Turbulence
By: Sarah Morrison Early morning was spent winding through the twisted mangroves of the Caribbean, trees intertwined in cozy hugs. Our driver dropped us off at the airport early and we sat in the aggressive air conditioning for a few hours as we waited to board our plane. Traveling in another country inevitably left us …
Paul J. Morrison 