I carry a notebook and write everywhere. Today’s writing at Lake Merritt:

Today is my father’s birthday, and I am the prodigal son. He has been gone forty years, but I think he would still accept me back, regardless of all the vida loca and waste I have made. He himself was a mas loco, so he would understand.

Everyone has to go on a mission sometimes. Everyone has to hit rock bottom.

The blessed ones learn humility and honor: God’s Honor, which is grace.

All you must do is repent and wish to be a simple servant. Your Father will always open his arms and say, “Today is a celebration, for once my son was lost, and now he is found!”

Amen.