When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He'd throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I asked her why the paint disappeared by morning, and she told me that if the sky was always like that we might take it for granted. I suppose she was right. Maybe that's what war is all about—so we can appreciate times of peace.


Letters From Home (ed. 2011)


When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He'd throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I...

When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He'd throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I...

When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He'd throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I...

When I was a kid, my mom once told me that God was an artist and how on occasion He'd throw a bucketful of paint across the sky for us all to see. I...