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The Story of Paris
There is something about the telling of a story that captures our imagination. It could be the anticipation of discovering the plot and then feeling the excitement of watching it unfold. Or maybe the landscapes, culture, and time frame in which the story takes place allow us to enter these places just for a moment. Yet, above all else, it seems the characters themselves arrest us the most. Their personalities. Their virtues. Their vices. Their achievements and their failures. We love the characters because, deep down, we know that we are taking part in our own stories. Therefore, we imagine ourselves within their roles because maybe we need to escape,…
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Paris, Death, and Uncertainty
It has been one week since evil raised its head in Paris. One week. One week of news reports about those who carried out these attacks. One week of wondering how this could happen again. One week of speculating what and who is next. There was a moment last Saturday afternoon, less than 24 hours from the time the first bullets flew and the first bombs detonated when I watched my four-year-old son play outside as if there was no evil in the world. He played with such intensity and vigor as if death had not shown its head less than four hours away in a city we had recently visited. And then came…
