Bonus Essay

The jangle

It has been said that beggars cannot be choosers. As someone who worked among the unhoused community for nearly a decade and a half, I can assure you that whoever…

Community

Hey y'all - It's been a rough but generative spring so far. I have a lot going on, and I am running about like a man with my hair on…

Sam

Not all the stories about my time working among the unhoused are about death, I promise. But it was the deaths that did me in, and that ultimately made me…

Karen's World

Hi y'all!

On Tuesday of last week, my friend Karen died. The funeral was Friday, in Raleigh, NC, so I cancelled all the meetings for the end of the week…

CJ

Content warning: This is a story about a couple I knew and worked with who were unhoused, and whose baby was stillborn.

As I write these stories about the time…

Called

While I am a credentialed Christian pastor, I have an awkward sort of relationship with it. I was ordained by the Mennonite Church USA on a Palm Sunday (which is…

Next Steps

It’s a pretty normal coffee shop. They also bake bread there, which is nice, and they have a strong lunch game, and even better for me, they are around the corner from my house. I hold lots of meetings there. 

It’s crowded when I get there to meet my boss’s boss, who had called me a couple of days before to set up this meeting to discuss “where we go from here.”…

Senselessness

Mike was what we in the South call “a character”. He was a short, trim man, just a hair over 5 feet tall. I knew for a fact he was 62 years old, but he always seemed much younger than that, mostly, I think, because of his huge infectious smile. 

Mike was gay, and was given to incongruent dressing. He would wear a polo and khakis, but with high heeled shoes. Or…

I'll figure it out.

My younger brother is 47 years old, and has worked for the same company since he was seventeen. Thirty years at the same place - well, working in various locations, but for the same company. These days he’s in management, and unless something drastic happens, he will probably retire from there in another 20 years. 

On the other hand, I am 52 years old, and since I was sixteen, the list of…

What to do

This was supposed to arrive in your inbox on Saturday, but I was traveling, and the robots working behind the scene let me down. So, here you go, a few days late. But I waited more than 10 years to write this story, so it probably didn't mind waiting to be read a few more days. - HH

Hey y'all, 

I was doing some digital cleanup and came across a bunch of…

Feeling good in your skin

It’s early Sunday morning and the sky is grey and dim, looking like the sky in a post-apocalyptic film whose name I cannot recall, a metaphor that strikes too close to home these days.  The road stretches in front of me for miles, empty, and the dash thermometer tells me it is 22 degrees outside, just 5 degrees warmer than it was when I left my hotel this morning. I’ve been driving…

The things we cannot change

The room is silent, but not really - silence being such a rare thing. In reality, the silence here is made up of the humming of the dorm-sized refrigerator, the heated air passing through the air vents, and some slight electronic hum that I can’t quite identify. It’s dark, too, except for the bedside lamp and the glow from my laptop screen. Normally, I would include the tapping of keys in the…

Don't surrender in advance.

I've been playing with this idea in my head ever since the election. It's not fully fleshed out, but it's Saturday, which means this is the day I hit send. I worry that people will hear this as me saying everything will be OK - I don't think that at all. But I do think we have options other than surrender.

I have to travel next weekend for work, so no essay…

On not being consumed

Hey y'all! - This is another unfinished essay. I mean, it stands by itself, but I feel like this could be a chapter in a  book if fleshed out more. My usual process is that I write a small thing - a Facebook post, say, and then I work with it and it becomes a blog post, or a sermon illustration, and then maybe an essay. I have some of these I…

The naming of things

It's been a rough week for me, schedule wise, as everyone came out of hibernation and wanted me to do something this week. So, a short one today, but with a question at the end I would love your input on. Thanks - HH

When we bought our first house, the backyard was a mess. It sloped away from the house, and was filled with Privet and Japanese Honeysuckle, winding together in…

History, not destiny | Bonus Essay

I'm working on a much longer essay around history, family, and roots, so don't be surprised if themes in today's piece show up often in the weeks ahead. Thanks for reading! - HH

The trouble is always how to start, but my part of the story really began in 1814, when Edwin Hollowell, a Quaker, died at the age of 40 in rural North Carolina outside Goldsboro, leaving his 40-year-old wife Brambly…

Stats

Hey friends! - I hope your holidays were meaningful and refreshing to you. One thing I don't say in this essay is that the only way I can survive and even thrive being the sort of writer I am is because of you. Thank you for your support that makes my sort of career possible.

As I allude to in the essay, I shifted some things around recently - expect an email…

Hagiography

Because of the holidays and travel, I'm taking the next two weeks off from these bonus essays. If you need more to read, check out the archives and other downloadable Members Only content here. I hope you have a happy holidays, and I will be back in your inbox on the 4th of January. - HH

One of the dangers of writing about the past is the tendency to slip into…

The sacred coat

It’s cold outside this morning, as I sit here at my desk. And by cold, I mean, it’s cold for here – right at 32 degrees - but it would not impress someone from Montana or North Dakota. We don’t get a lot of cold weather here – maybe 10 times in a calendar year will it get below 25 degrees, and then usually for only a few hours. Every 4-5 years…

A place to go after work | Bonus Essay

NB: If you celebrated Thanksgiving this week, I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. Because of the holidays, today's piece is short and was a bit delayed. - HH

It was a simple board and batten building, uninsulated, with a tin roof and a dirt floor, resting on a six-inch-high concrete mudsill. When I knew it, in the late 1970’s, its owner had been dead for nearly a decade…