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Doing Thanks

  • Why Get Out Of Your Comfort Zone

    On Monday, March 05 th, 2012
    Do not let anything keep you – not anything — from flinging out of that sagging comfort zone, and right into the streets, eyes and mouth full of His wonder, to pant it in the marketplace the back alleys, the front fields, across the crackling wires   that you have seen Him, yes — you have
  • when you’d really like to wear sheer joy

    On Tuesday, November 15 th, 2011
    When Rosa’s youngest, little Liliana, scooped up that puppy right there next to the potato patch, she just hid behind his gaping mouth, eyes all large and laughing. Rosa told us what Liliana had done — that Liliana had found that puppy wandering abandoned — lost— outside her classroom. That Liliana had brought the puppy
  • When You Are In Desperate Need of Hope

    On Thursday, November 10 th, 2011
    It can come straight out of an empty sky – Hope like a cloud — only the size of a man’s fist. When I meet Lidia, when I cup her face and pull her near, and her mother stands right next to here, there in her white shirt. Her mother named Blanca and smiling. Blanca,
  • When Thanksgiving Becomes Thanksliving …

    On Tuesday, November 08 th, 2011
    The Farmer and I traveling with Compassion to Ecuador, slipped into our beds here in Quito this morning at 2 am after a day of travelling… us carrying this story from home and all the preparing to go, carrying it out now into the Ecuador streets… Thank you for traveling with us in these posts
  • {Video Concert on the Farm}How the Poor & Rich Might find Release: The Release of a Third World Symphony

    On Tuesday, August 30 th, 2011
    So it rains the day after he leaves. The day after he walks out of the wheat field, packs his guitar into that beat up, duct-taped case and heads south again, music on his mind. But Shaun Grove’s music, his songs stay behind. Playing loud on the stereo here the next morning, the washing machine
  • The problem of evil? The Greater Problem of Good?

    On Monday, August 08 th, 2011
    So after dinner, she picks coneflowers in the garden. Cradles the long stems in her apron skirt, carries them up through the picket gate. And she turns to me on the top step of the porch, holds her apron out to me, all those purple petals — art in an apron. “Why is there all
  • when food’s a hallowed thing

    On Friday, July 29 th, 2011
    Weeds keep coming up and we can’t keep up. But July, all carefree, just shrugs its shoulders and the zucchinis bloom happily anyways into these steaming plates, lettuce frilling the edge of sultry days. So I take that basket brought back from Africa, the one with the name of the woman who wove it, written
  • when you’re praying to live more like Jesus

    On Wednesday, June 15 th, 2011
    When I first read her story on the screen, I want to drive a for sale sign into the front lawn and sell all the pigs. Mainly because I don’t think I can shoe horn a few hundred hogs into a suitcase — and there’s now way around it: my heart’s already left on a
  • weekends are for the wide open fields

    On Saturday, June 04 th, 2011
    For the whole earth to stretch like an invitation, for the wind to move you, run through you, for the fields white and ripe for the harvest, for making your life a seed of sacrifice that falls to the ground to reap bountiful joy.   May your weekend be about the fields, kindest friends, the
  • To Set Up a Complete Nativity Scene:

    On Wednesday, December 15 th, 2010
    It’s Day 85 of my life-after Guatemala that I set out the nativity; it’s only now that I remember that the baby would be about 85 days old too. It’s my only souvenir from Guatemala — a red soil formed Mary, three clay-combed wise men, a Babe the size of a thimble. Headbands for the
  • The Great Giveaway

    On Wednesday, December 01 st, 2010
    When they ask for a story I pull up blankets and cover them with words. That is what made them. And that is what sustains them and they need this before they can sleep, words to lay down on. So I pluck from thin air, the only way any story comes. Something from nothing, a gift
  • Christmas: Thinking about Whose Birthday It Is

    On Wednesday, November 17 th, 2010
    I t’s been over ten years of nothing under the Christmas tree here. Strange, the way children teach men. :: It was dark, I do remember that. Bedtime. Smoothing back hair, kissing foreheads. On round moon hanging large outside the window, an ornament dangling off stars, decorating the night. I had gifts to wrap. So,
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