Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
I know my Heavenly Father is rich. Yeah, yeah. I know. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and all that. I’m a Christian, have been for over 40 years, but wow, you can carry some crazy, mixed up buried kinda feelings into your life with Jesus if you’re not careful. I was sitting…
photo credit* The people over at Tweetspeak Poetry led by the fearless LL Barkat recently engaged in a ‘Poem Stack’ exercise based on single words from geology, nature and so on. I wanted to try my hand at it; here’s what I wrote at church this morning. It’s a people stack. ~~~~~~~~~ Yoga pants, striped, …
“I don’t know what to do, Lord.” Me–buried, brain full of tasks and to do’s, worried there’s a Right Way to Go. I SO don’t want to miss it. As if. As if God had an opinion on closet cleaning versus photo organizing versus gardening or muffin making or Bible reading. As soon as the…
NOT me, but my talented, plate juggling sister Laurie, mentioned below Serving is a First Class Business I was born and raised in Southern California, within bicycling and fireworks-watching distance of Disneyland. The summer I was 15-going-on-16, (the oldest of 5 children), my mother became a single parent. It was 1968 and she was barely making ends meet. Way…
After the garden— The giving away, the giving up The ghastly truth poured out, Words like threadbare sheets Could not cover the lies, I do not know him! Yet He Who Can Be Known Returned for this one, Walking first in The Way Then across the waves, Wooing with words and An outstretched hand, Covering…
Jesus and I are on an outing the week before Easter. We pull up to the strip mall unbuckling our seatbelts. As we climb out of the car and walk towards the door He remarks, “Oh, a Christian bookstore; let’s see what they’re selling.” We step inside and nearly run into a banner displaying ‘Resurrection…
(for Tania) “We’re like lacemakers, a lost art of lovely life going, going, gone. Gone the way of quilting bees and fireside readings of “Gone with the Wind.” Gone, like all hope of any kind of spring after this bone-chilling winter.” But the earth softens, trumpeting daffodils, splitting crocuses and color comes up, all green…
A child (surprise!) yours Daughter (ignored) called out one Sister (competing) the apple of your eye Bride (terrified) loved Mother (novice) protected Teacher (trusting) …
I’ve just finished reading Jennifer Dukes Lee’s new book “Love Idol”** and am becoming more aware each day of how I fashion my own not-gods out of man made materials. Last week I wrote and published (for less than 24 hours) a post about World Vision’s decision regarding same sex hiring practices. I wanted to add…
There is an altar here– facing the supply cubbie flanked by the printer (bedecked with Post-it notes), computer at my alternate elbow. Stray crackers sit open next to the pen and paper and glasses, mid-snack, abandoned. Paper, tape, scissors stapler–all adorn this secular cum sacred space. How so? I folded my hands in prayer and…