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The Tirade That Made Me a Christian
After an unwelcome move halfway across the world, I vented my anger to God. Then I learned to give him control.
Vivian Mabuni
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I
can still smell the incense. My dad would light three sticks of it,
prop them up in a bowl of uncooked rice, kneel, and bow until his
forehead met the ground. Three times he would bow—slowly, reverently—and
the room would grow somber and silent. I remember watching the smoke
curl in the air and disappear into the dining room lights.
Platters
of our favorite Chinese delicacies filled the dining table. My mouth
waters thinking about the sea cucumber, bamboo shoots, abalone,
extra-large ...
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Thursday, July 16, 2020
The Tirade That Made Me a Christian
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