When my youngest daughter was about two years old she came across a tattered paperback on our bookshelves, Ten Thousand Baby Names, and for a little while this was her favorite book. Drawn by the shining face of the baby on the cover, she brought it to me over and over and demanded that I read...

When the escape from Egypt was certain, when the last furious wave had closed over their enemies' heads and the dangerous waters lay smooth again, when the Israelites could finally turn toward the future without fear that the past would snatch them back--what did they see before them? Not the...

All violence is framed by blood. Our scars are the red line reminders— for the survivors, and all who follow later. See them, and do not turn away from the violence that drew them. Feel the scars you know, and hear the ones whispered about— They are guides. They are pathways, as much as they are...