Radical Resistance

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

Be attentive.
See that your hearts are not sluggish, inebriated or weighed down by the worries of the world, so you are not caught unaware and ill-prepared for the day that approaches.

Luke 21: 34-35

Seeker,
Can you stand in quiet assurance before menace or manipulation and still reject violence of word or deed?

There is much
that mitigates against quiet wakefulness
in the rush and rumble of difficult days;

in aching hearts,
troubled minds,
and the slosh and swell of anger and anxiety.

Even as we minimize background bustle
and soften foreground chatter,
often we concede

the middle ground of mindfulness
to the rancor of unspoken argument,
preoccupied with daily distresses.

And still silence
often eludes us
in these tumultuous times.

Each day bears a fresh payload of problems.
All times, in their own way, are troubled.
Some seasons are uniquely tempestuous.

Clarity
In silent stillness
the swirling sediment sinks
till clearness creeps in.

Joe Grant

We have entered an extraordinary time of darkness.
A shadowland of struggle looms,
eager to engulf and disorient us in gloom.

Here, silence makes a first impression as isolation,
darkness as creeping alienation,
stillness as capitulation.

Without steady stillness,
clearness of mind, heart, spirit
cannot coalesce and enlighten cloudiness.

Blessed are the clear-hearted,
they will see the Holy One
(in everything).

Matthew 5: 8

In quiet time,
calm and shadow present another aspect;
invite a different kind of engagement.

Silence
is so much more
than absence of noise.

Surrounding soundlessness is the unheard ambience—
front, center, background—
that is both container and conveyor for action and agitation.

Silence can be a fullness rather than a void…
To be still is a spiritual endeavor.

Terry Hershey

As we cannot see the wood for the trees,
we fail to note the quiet
between, before, and following sound.

In the beginning, it is written,
Spirit hovered over the dark—
breath to stir the still waters of the deep.

Silent stillness speak volumes.
More than a restorative,
it is a revolutionary resource for resistance.

Dark and quiet can integrate and
inoculate us from alienation by drawing us closer,
requiring us to lean in and listen to one another.

Resistance demands
divesting from certain
patterns of thought and action.

Quiet resistance
involves the required reflection
of space-making sabbath.

And sabbath is radically subversive;
agitating angst or apathy with peace,
calmly disturbing distress.

Be still and know that I AM God.

Psalm 46:10

Where diabolical forces are in play
and daily deceptions abound,
sowing distain for deeper truth,

may we resist the clamor of violent thought and action,
defy the desire to dehumanize,
decry the temptation to demonize.

May we also reject the futility
of reflexive retribution so we might rest,
rooted and grounded in love beyond understanding.

While leaves quiver, limbs shake
and the strongest trunks must bend and sway,
roots alone remain; silent and still unshakeable.

Be still and know that I AM.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be!

joe

Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Cost-Benefit Paralysis

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

Love the Holy One wholeheartedly, soulfully, strongly, mindfully;
and your neighbor as dearly as yourself.

Luke 10:27

Seeker,
How do you weigh the cost of living with the price of loving?

Pandemic unmasks,
with the stark reflection of a cracked mirror,
our shared visage, in fragmented distortion.

‘O look, look in the mirror
‘O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

W. H. Auden

As we succumb to the grave demands
and debilitations of protracted isolation,
we weigh the consequences of activities with inaction.

A dangerous calculus, dangled before us,
presents the gruesome false equivalence
between wealth and worth; profit and people.

The vacuum of moral leadership,
abandons us to less-caring calculations
about whom and how many must die for the freedom to sell and buy.

But there is another approach
that invites nations and neighbors to safeguard vulnerability
by sharing from the commons of human and material resource.

‘O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart
.

W.H. Auden

Trying times test our humanity as well as our faith.
While we ponder where and when it all might end,
it helps to keep our eyes fixed

on the ubiquitous wounded One;
catalyst of contradiction,
who is both masked and intubated; healer and helped.

This Christ who abides within and in between,
spans the chasm between market and ministry
with compassionate self-giving.

Christ the protester,
wielding a sign.
Christ the policeman, standing in line.

Christ well-remembered,
Christ we’ve forgotten.
Christ you are blessed, and how you are broken!

Christ of compassion,
the ever-forgiver,
peacemaker, cheek-turner, merciful river.

Christ so close,
Christ so dear,
how dare we not see you, when you are so near?

Excerpted from Still In the Storm by Joe Grant

Thus, the fierce love of Maker is expressed
as passionate concern
for the most maligned and mistreated; without exception.

For only the compass of compassion
can reorient us
and chart a course to fuller, wider living.

Discounting, distracting and misdirecting,
either in piety or politics,
devalues dignity in search of justification.

Seeking to be justified by Jesus, the lawyer asked,
‘And who is my neighbor?’

Luke 10:29

Since crisis also presents opportunity, always we must ask:
What is the cost of loving? Who benefits?
Who ends up paying the price for so much suffering?

And carefully we listen
for courageous, radical inclusion,
as we steer clear of amoral profiteering and prophet-less preaching.

The real tragedy would be if we come through the pandemic without changing for the better.
It would be as if all those deaths, all that suffering … would mean nothing.

Ben Okri

Beyond social analysis and moral paralysis,
may we surrender to the humble power of kenosis—
self-outpouring that restores “benefit” from a privilege to making good.

Especially in dark times, even behind closed doors,
we do not scheme
about going back-wards.

We kindle flickering hope
and dream a softer, slower, simpler, gentler,
more generous world into being.

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
Latest book by Joe Grant

Homeward

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

How I have yearned to gather your children together
as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings!

Matthew 23:37

Seeker,
When you envision home, what and who comes to mind?

Subtle is the distinction
between “shelter” and “haven.”
The first a temporary shield, the other sounds like heaven.

You have been refuge to the poor,
haven to the distressed,
shelter from the storm and shade from the heat.

Isaiah 25:4

Offering more permanent anchorage,
haven desires to enfold;
providing safe harbor, a place to unburden.

For the tempest-tossed
any port or quay
signifies home.

Our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.

Augustine of Hippo

As pandemic prolongs,
we shift from sheltering
to being anchored at home.

So much more than a dwelling,
home evokes that communion
we call belonging.

Just as every vision
is limited by the frame we place around it,
so too is our perception of home.

The relief we seek is right under our feet…
If we understand our deep connection and relationship with the Earth,
we will have enough love strength and awakening
to look after ourselves and the Earth so that both can thrive.

Thich Nhat Hanh

Yet we are ever on the move.
Migratory by nature,
we harbor an ancient, nomadic heritage.

Wanderers and wonderers all,
our ache to belong lies at the heart
of our incessant questing and questioning.

Only fifty years ago,
intrepid space-age voyagers
looked past our moon to capture Earth rising.

Three decades later an orbiting telescope opened its eye
to our intergalactic neighborhood,
and expanded our home-scape.

Poised now at the brink,
all life on our planet
hangs in the balance.

Humanity still has the ability to work together in building our common home.

Pope Francis

After a century
of abuse and neglect,
we have laid waste our holy habitat.

Along with living relations of every ilk,
we suffer the effects
of catastrophic home-sickness.

Across the planet entire,
millions seek shelter from violent injustice,
poverty, environmental disaster.

Fellow creatures flee firestorm,
exploitation, habitat devastation;
the harvest of our own nature deprivation

With wilderness under assault,
the indigenous curators of precious biodiversity
themselves face extinction.

Life is paradise, and we are all in paradise, but we refuse to see it.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

We have lost our way home.
No longer do we calibrate our days
to earth’s seasons: seedtime, fruit and fallow.

Recovery begins with the subtlest shift
that turns home into haven,
bringing heaven back to earth.

Thus, in looking after neighbors,
we are on the lookout
for all great and small creatures in our care.

Once more can we revel
in the primal revelation
called Creation.

Be thou a guiding star above,
smooth path below,
kindly shepherd behind,
flame bright before us
this day, tonight,
forevermore.

Columba of Iona

As you attend to the stirrings within
and tend to life all around,
may you rejoice in the realization that you are already home.

As you hold open this haven,
may you know
the infinite depth and breadth of love abiding in you.

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
Latest book by Joe Grant

Emergence

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020


All this is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Matthew 24:8

Seeker,
As you live longer into these troubling times, do you wonder what is coming to be?

Love’s liberating cleaver, loss,
teaches us not cling too tightly
and hold but lightly

to patterns of the past,
goods of the earth,
and the partiality of our paltry knowing.

Otherwise, we are consigned to recycle
life-lessening legacies, modes, means and messes
of a bygone era that needs to pass away.

No one puts new wine into old wineskins;
the new wine will burst the skins and be spilled,
and the skins lost.
New wine needs fresh wineskins.

Luke 5:37-38

How else might we emerge from the carapace
of this protracted emergency, without shedding
the skins of outmoded ways of being and seeing?

And perhaps the disruptions,
afforded by confinement, distance and disaffection,
are contractions designed to ready us for delivery into the new.

Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.

Gustav Mahler

As monuments to subjugation topple,
and take up residence in museums
that memorialize the unrepeatable;

as demands for dignity and equity,
loudly expressed,
will no longer be suppressed;

as certainties evaporate
in the lengthening of vastly different days,
and lives assumed safe now appear vulnerable,

we become keenly conscious
of how much we have taken, and taken for granted,
and how costly the price of consumptive, ungrateful living.

Mysticism is the actual experience of oneness with all …
The mystic isn’t that special kind of human being.
But every human being is a special kind of mystic.

David Steindl-Rast

Feasting on facts fails to inspire
nor does it lead to longed-for
transformations of habit and vision.

This restorative movement,
which swept up the willing with the willful,
begs for new human beings.

And the changes demanded
to reach that farther shore
cannot be simply skin deep.

Pandemic is but a symptom
of much deeper disease
tearing at life’s tapestry.

More than masks and medication,
our predicament prescribes
a mystical revisioning of our fundamental oneness.

We stand at a new doorway,
awaiting that which comes…
daring to be human creatures,
vulnerable to the beauty of existence.

Anne Hillman

From the tangled roots of interconnection
with every life and life form,
we reaffirm the reality of our co-responsibility.

Emerging now, in the throes of environmental calamity,
we are charged to reclaim, re-frame, rename
all our relationships to life.

Do we yet possess the depth of spirit
to affirm, in action and intention,
a radical revolution of heart?

As slaves no more
to discrimination,
may we likewise:

refute the exploitation
of earth herself
and any of our fellow creatures;

decry political, social, religious inequities
that denigrate any group or member
of our human family;

replace all monuments
that glorify domination
and military conquest

with memorials
to lives lived, lost and given
to the pursuit of nonviolence.

Do not remember former things or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth,
do you not perceive it?

Isaiah 43:18-19

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT


Standing Under

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

Because in seeing they do not perceive, in listening they fail to hear, nor do they understand.

Matthew 13:13

Seeker,
What are you willing to let go to make room for understanding to grow?

We do not see things as THEY are. We see things as WE are.

Talmud

How, and where, and with whom we stand really matters.
While many jockey for prime position in the race lineup,
where we choose to place ourselves is vital.

Where do we stand? How do we stand?
What do we stand for, and, most importantly, with whom are we willing to stand?

Our first task in approaching another people,
another culture, another religion is to take off our shoes,
for the ground we are approaching is holy.

Max Warren

Prepositions are revealing.
They locate us; standing out, on, over, under, with,
against, apart, up, down, aside, beside, for …

By-standing is
not the same as with-standing.
Out-standing is not the same as standing out.

It is certain, in any case, that ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.

James Baldwin

And there is more
to standing
than standing still.

More than the fruit of standing still, understanding expands
only when we listen longer, look harder, let go to learn
from those consigned to stand under the heel of history.

We see from where we stand.

Haitian Proverb

Will you humbly stand
with lives that do not seem to matter;
dis-advantaged, misunderstood and maligned?

Standing together under the Reign of Mercy; listening as
suffering speaks; restoring equity; celebrating commonality in diversity; this is our pathway toward deeper, fuller understanding.

Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place.

Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī,

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A new book by Joe Grant

Heart to Heart

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

If any desire to come after me, let them deny themselves [their privilege], take up their cross, and follow.

Matthew 16:24

Seeker,
What do you need to set down and lift up for healing to happen?

Vividly I recall
my first trip outside,
while recuperating from open-heart surgery.

Weak at the knees,
terrified of falling,
I needed help to steady me.

Clutching a pillow to my cracked chest,
everything, everyone
moved so quickly.

A voice chimed within:
this fear, this slow fragility, this dependence;
this is HOLY!

As for me I am poor and needy, yet God takes thought for me.

Psalm 40:17

Slowly I shuffled
into the awareness that solidarity in suffering
would gentle me,

draw me
to other companions
likewise injured, frail, fearful.

I know I am one among the broken,
and this realization is key
to healing hearts.

Let us not underestimate how hard it is to be compassionate. Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to the place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely, and broken… our greatest gift… is our ability to enter into solidarity with those who suffer…

Henri Nouwen

Sure-footed once more,
Still I wrestle with the cost of living:
a heart broken.

Regularly I am reminded
of grace that germinates unseen
in dark days.

While healing continues,
I endeavor to hold on
to wisdom sorely won in the school of suffering.

I must confess, my friends, the road ahead will not always be smooth. There will still be rocky places of frustration and meandering points of bewilderment. There will be inevitable setbacks here and there. There will be those moments when the buoyancy of hope will be transformed into the fatigue of despair… Our dreams will sometimes be shattered, and our hopes blasted.

Martin Luther King Jr.

Every day,
compassion cries to be unleashed;
mercy needs to be nurtured; forgiveness begs for release.

These truest expressions of our condition
can inoculate us
from forces determined to pull us apart.

Holy compassion,
insinuated into the fiber of our being,
delivers us from division by folding us back into one another.

Without compassion
there is no hope.
Without hope, no recourse for change.

There must be times, there will be times when we too are afraid to give or forgive, afraid to cry out against injustice, afraid to face an incurable illness. We must recognize a basic reality: courage is not the absence of fear. It is feeling afraid to do something but still finding the strength to do it anyway.

Walter Burghardt

Before our eyes, beneath our feet,
at our fingertips
a universe of possibilities awaits.

There is wonder
amid disturbance and distress,
and courage reflected in the face of social disintegration.

May you find your way,
to express gratefulness for all that touches you,
and thus immunize yourself against corrosive cynicism.

May you refuse to let fear hold you back
from humbly connecting, heart to heart,
conjoined in the wonderful-woundedness of living.

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A book by Joe Grant

Cross-Fire

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020

[In memory of Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old emergency medical technician, killed in the crossfire by police on March 13th, 2020 when they broke into her home in Louisville, Kentucky.]


Blessed the meek, it is they who will inherit the land.

Matthew 5:5

Seeker,
Are you strong enough to be gently tenacious in trying times?

I was a young man in the early 1980s,
crossing Belfast city
during deeply troubled times.

From the bus stop I watched
whirring helicopters
announce armored personnel carriers.

Strings of camouflaged soldiers emerged,
hugging doorways, scanning streets
through crosshairs.

Two of them pursued me
to the upper deck
of the bus.

The crucifix around my neck,
advertising my denomination,
targeted me for trouble.

Pointing his rifle,
with booming profanity,
a soldier interrogated me.

Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice.
Justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love.

Martin Luther King Jr.

Scared speechless,
I stared at the muzzle,
so close to my body.

In the mounting tension,
I noticed the other barrel
gently trembling.

Looking up,
I caught the wide eyes,
of a soldier my age.

One disarming glance
captured centuries bloodied by strife,
sectarian and state sponsored.

Scared like me,
young like me,
caught like me.

Like me, I could see
he wanted off that bus;
to make a break

from spirals of repression and rebellion,
with their myths and martyrs,
hallowed heroes, villains and so many victims.

Surely he did not wish to succumb to a sniper’s bullet,
or shoot at rock-wielding children?
Nor did I desire to be caught in the crossfire.

When finally I alighted,
I was determined to leave behind on that bus
a heritage of rebel songs, slogans and religious bigotry.

I sought a new identity, to inhabit a wider world;
a deeper peace, to no longer be afraid and angry;
a larger love, to set me free.

We can, to a certain extent, change the world; we can work for the oasis, the little cell of joy and peace in a harried world … there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.

Dorothy Day

Four decades on, in another inner city,
I keep anxious vigil under
the staccato throb of helicopters and screaming sirens.

As young ones stand boldly,
amid clouds of tear gas
and the boom of shock grenades,

my weary hearts sinks
and I shudder;
after all these years trapped on that bus.

Spirituality is not learned by flight from the world,
by running away from things, or by turning solitary and going apart from the world. We must learn to penetrate things and find God there.

Meister Eckhart

Borrowing from highland clans in my homeland,
hooded figures spread terror in this land
by setting crosses aflame.

Still, across this nation,
racial domination reigns with systemic supremacy,
bolstered by fear and apathy.

Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.

Martin Luther King Jr.

Paradoxically,
redemption rests in the tenacity of meekness.
If you think meekness is weakness, try being meek for a week!

Rejecting imperial ways and means,
Jesus resisted with the radical nonviolence
of the humble of the earth.

Such meekness is not for the timid.
Well-rooted in compassion, with courageous resolve,
it refuses to submit to the subjugation of anyone.

Have you witnessed nature’s
magnificent meekness,
her enduing power to persist and resist?

Let us invoke that gentle strength
to stand up, stand strong, stand together for a worthier world,
gently and stubbornly, with the tenacity of trees by the waterside.


joe

A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
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Made to Be Mended

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020


At table with them, he took bread,
blessed and broke it and gave it to them.
Then their eyes were opened …

Luke 24:30-31

Ten years after a horrific genocide
I was privileged to visit the rolling hills of Rwanda,
still reeling and dealing with trauma.

I visited a humble pottery project
bringing together people
from both poles of the conflict;

one among many
brave initiatives,
fostering healing through reconciliation.

Just souls are in the hands of the Holy One,
where torment no longer touches them.

Wisdom 3:1

A simple earthen hut
boasted a modest array
of handmade pots.

Mud-spackled potters took pains to explain
how they fashioned coiled bowls by hand
from local, blood-red clay.

These they blackened
with charcoal ash
before placing them in a brick oven.

In their time of visitation, they will glow,
running like sparks through stubble.

Wisdom 3:7

They cautioned visitors
that these were fragile vessels,
manufactured for decoration not utility.

A small recess,
held stacks of
cracked and crumbling bowls.

These ‘seconds’
had fissured in the firing.
Destined to be crushed, re-formed, re-fired.

Like clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in My hands.

Jeremiahs 18:6

Handling these broken receptacles,
I noticed their lacework of fractures
that surely made them brittle.

In these dark
fragmented failures
I beheld beauty.

Chipped and broken,
they begged
to be handled with care.

Blessed to be broken, destined for disintegration,
their story had not yet ended.
They were marked to be remade, and thus to be mended.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

Leonard Cohen

I carried back
a trio of black,
hand-sized seconds, fractured in the fires of Rwanda.

Despite careful wrapping,
they crumbled further
on the homeward journey.

They have since,
known more degeneration,
and been crudely reassembled.

This has made them
ever more appealing;
honestly humble crockery, whole in holey-ness.

In clay jars we carry this treasure, making clear the surpassing power is sourced not in us, but in the Holy One. Though in every way hard-pressed, we are not completely crushed; anguished, not driven to despair; persecuted, never forsaken; struck down, yet not destroyed …

2 Corinthians 4:7-9

Like the lovely, scarred souls of Rwanda
they bear
hard-won lessons.

In the years that followed,
I was heart-broken and repaired;
put back together, not quite the same.

Those leaky vessels
reveal in incompleteness
that we are conduits, not containers of light and love.

While breaking pains,
mending heals
and hurts as it remakes us.

Broken open, not broken down,
with chinks for light to get in and love to get out,
they become an earthy icon of holey-ness.

Only those who know they are broken can know healing.

May you not recoil
from shining a light on your own
losses, let downs, and stumbling failures.

For we are not fashioned for utility,
nor merely for display.
Brittle are we formed, to crack and crumble, and holey be remade.

joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com

A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT

Just Imagine

Photo by Joe Grant © 2020


This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Mark 13:8

Seeker,
Facing recurring pandemics, what are we turning into and turning away from?

Before time and darkness—
awash in absence and no-thing-ness—
sacred imagination flared into explosive creativity.

All being is born of this mysterious Source,
for no thing becomes real unless first imagined,
and imagination craves a challenge.

The painful pause presented by global pandemic
provides a teachable moment
for the earth community.

Now, can we flex our fantastic capacity
for re-creative re-conception and entertain
un-imagined opportunities for restoration.

We have more power at our disposal today than we have ever had,
and yet we are more alienated and estranged from the inner ground
of meaning and of love than we have ever been.

Thomas Merton

When we attend to resonant wisdom within,
we discover we already have all we need
to make a new beginning.

Regarding Nature,
we are bathed in beauty,
inspired by her resilient resurgence.

Exploring creative connections
with isolated neighbors,
we discover the elixir of smiles and abundant kindnesses.

Humbly baring our souls
before the Mystery at the core,
we find our compass contained within “compass-ion.”

There is nothing like shared suffering
to bring us to our senses
and bind us back together.

This is the hour of change, and within it we stand quietly together on the border of light.
What lies before us? Where shall our hearts turn?
Shall we draw back, or shall we cross over?

Shabbat Prayer

Wondering how we might emerge,
we ready the way for re-creative imagining—
our first tentative step toward realization.

Personal preservation graduates into social responsibility
in turning our heart’s attention beyond the now
toward the next, and out to neighbors near and far.

Winnowing begins when we start
to sift out seed grain
amid the castings of what used to be.

Surely, we are not consigned
to gun-ridden dystopias
where hoarding mobs crush the vulnerable?

There are wars and rumors of war, poverty and plague, hunger and pain.
Still, the sap is rising, again there is the resurrection of spring, and the continuing promise to us that God is with us always, with comfort and joy, if we will only ask.

Dorothy Day

When imagination is fired,
illuminations enlighten, with eyes rinsed clear,
that promised possibility of a peaceable future.

We are not the source of illumination,
yet our lives and longings provide a lens through which
light and love are refracted, reflected, re-directed.

In difficult times, visionaries emerge
to point out possibilities
below the horizon.

Prophets are not gifted with foresight,
but with insight to illustrate
what is needed and what might be.

Boldly calling out inequity and injustice,
they also call us together to address
suffering with bold creativity.

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way.
On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.

Arundhati Roy

Just imagine grassroots communities everywhere
reshaping themselves around
the needs and gifts of the most vulnerable.

Even as we gasp for breath,
we can begin to imagine
what a peaceable world might just be like.

Compassionate creativity is urgently needed
in a world suffering
from a catastrophic failure of imagination.

What can you imagine?
joe

Find me on Facebook and Instagram@InTheStormStill
Visit my website: inthestormstill.com
A NEW BOOK BY JOE GRANT