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This summer was one of the busiest I can recall. The conferences, working in the garden, canning hundreds of jars of food, Tuesday nights at the Extreme, and planning the details of the new OCI facility kept us in non-stop motion all summer. I’m now …

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I hear her whimper;
     an infant, wrapped in a blanket, laid in the woods
     on this snowy winter day.
Fighting.
Fighting for her life.
Fighting to know the parents who didn’t want her.
Who don’t deserve her.

She hears my footsteps,
     and begins to cry out with increasing fervor.
I pick her up and press her tiny frozen body against mine.
I begin to declare, “You, child, are a child of God.”
I feel the defeat of the Enemy,
     as her body slowly warms.

This poem © Kevin Walker. Published August 2012.

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In these very difficult times politics alone can’t resolve our problems. Many of our problems nationally are spiritual, requiring a spiritual solution. One such solution was often employed by our nation’s founders — a national day not…