O God, my God! Lowly, suppliant and fallen upon my face, I beseech Thee with all the ardor of my invocation to pardon whosoever hath hurt me, forgive him that hath conspired against me and offended me, and wash away the misdeeds of them that have wrought injustice upon me....

It's the height of autumn's radiant color here in New Hampshire. As I look at the oranges and reds and yellows of the maple trees in the yard, I reflect on one of the divine attributes: uniqueness. Not only every tree, but every leaf on every tree that has ever...

In the rural neighborhood of New Hampshire where my wife and I live, there is a Congregational church that dates back to the 1800s. What possible connection could there be between this charming New England church, with its warm and inviting spirit, and the martyrdom of the Bab in Persia...