THE QUIET EDGE

THE WORD THAT SABOTAGED ME*

I was in the night when he said it. And I mistook the night for being late.  

I had built, crashed, faked, lost, and buried everything visible. Ministry. Marriage. Money.

Reputation. I was a man with the paper of dead men, trading figs and scrubs, using

humanity as a means to an end. I was preaching Jesus while being the opposite of what

I was pointing at.  

Then the plane went down. The mentor died. I went to substances. Then to a cell.  

In that cell, the word wouldn’t die. It sabotaged every calculation I had left.  

This book is the hair growing back.