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Esther Good
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You can never wipe the dust of Africa from your feet.
You can never wipe the dust of Africa from your feet.

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Is Your Pastor Saved Yet?

I’m so excited to share that the book my father and I have been working on for the last 8+ years has been published!  This is a book about growing in faith and humility and learning to see others the way God sees them. It begins with my father’s struggle…
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The Blood We Share

I’m grateful for the many people and organizations that are working tirelessly to reunite separated families, and I’m grateful for President Trump’s executive order, which, though imperfect, was necessary. Thanks to Poets Reading The News for sharing my…
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“Today in school we learned about Martin Luther King Jr., and how he had the idea that white people and black people could be together.” This is Nati’s takeaway from a week or so of activities centered around MLK.  I am happy that he’s learning about…
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1. Reminders I’m thankful to Shutterfly for sending me an email last week with pictures from 7 years ago. I’ve had a computer or two crash since then and thought I had lost most of the pictures of that fall.   2. Nurses I’m thankful for the NP who first…
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For clarity: When I was 6 years old, the local teacher exposed himself to me and asked me to show him my private parts. I didn’t deserve it. When I was 8 years old, a group of schoolboys chased me into an empty classroom where their leader thrust his…
Me Too - Esther Good
Me Too - Esther Good
esthergood.com
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In December of 2015, Yohannes and I went to Puerto Rico so I could interview for medical school.  I had already been accepted to the school I attend now, in Pennsylvania, but I really wanted to study in Puerto Rico for the following reasons: 1. I would…
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Yes, I hear you. No need to shout. I know you thought that you had lost your voice Or that we had all gone deaf When you stood on your soap box preaching And no one stopped to say, “Amen,” Like they used to.
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We come upon this conversation often – once or twice for each of the many half-finished coloring books hiding in all corners of the house.  Once or twice for each broken or lost crayon.  Lily colors her pictures with shades of purple, green, and orange.…
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I’ve struggled with anxiety my whole life. Even as a young child, I remember hearing about the terrors of the world and shrinking into myself in fear. I fashioned in my head a hiding place–a pod made of thick steel with padded walls–and I hid myself…
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