Easter
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moreThat We Would Meet Here
On Tuesday, April 14 th, 2009Our paths had never crossed. I’ve been good with that. And when I ask him to come, come see the kids in a play Easter morning, not at the church but at the arena, neutral territory, and Dad asks if his step-daughter, my age, her children, his step-grandchildren, ages of my children, might come too, his family that I’ve never met though he’s been remarried seven years ...
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moreAll Things New
On Monday, April 13 th, 2009The cornerstone of Christianity is a rotting cell sparking, a heart valve quivering in the pitch, beetle scratching in black while convex chest cavity shudders, sunken death inflating with hot breath, atoms of second ...
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moreThe End is Life
On Sunday, April 12 th, 2009Photo: taken @ Musee d’Orsay, Paris… I was unfamiliar with the painting before coming across it in one of the last galleries,shadowed and empty.But in that startling quiet, I looked into those alive, ancient eyes and there was an instant recognition, electrifying, of that hardly-belief, that aching-hope, the feet running to tomb,now empty and shad...
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moreWaiting…
On Saturday, April 11 th, 2009…. because He is our Life (please consider muting sidebar music, or viewing clip here) May your weekend wanderings be of expectant waiting, kind friends … His resurrected breath is the very essence of our every breath… All’s grace,
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moreNecessary
On Friday, April 10 th, 2009The children sleep and in a still house I pour blood down the drain.Scarlet drips from bowl’s edge and I’m struckwith images of the cutting of a throat, pools and reek ofof plasma, cells, platelets,the appeal of peaceable vegetarianism. And when I rub the marinate into the lamb, blood ponding on plate,I think of socially acceptable religion, inoffe...
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moreEaster Eucharisteo: Snapshots of Grace
On Thursday, April 09 th, 2009Related Grace Snapshots: How to Experience the Actual Presence of GodSnapshots of Meditations ~~ May we invite you to Live the Last Supper, to do Eucharisteo, to come join the Gratitude...
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moreNight Watch
On Wednesday, April 08 th, 2009We sit in the dark at the end of the day, a weary band of followers – – a gaggle of scragglers and wanderers, really — struggling with eyelids and wakefulness and this plea to pray. We’ve come to the garden. All week, each night, we’ve lit a candle, sat at garden’s edge, and someone sleeps. Tonight, two. O the deep, deep love of Jesus,...
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Family Devotional Activities for Easter (*Updated: Links working)
On Tuesday, April 07 th, 2009He snips the branches, gathers armfuls of quiet hope, carries spring home in a bucket. And between our fingers, we caress the soft grey willows, ashen grave clothes wrapping rumors of resurrection. How we are walking towards the Cross this week…. Growing Newness out of brokenness — seeds, dirt, eggshells and a sh...
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moreMenu for Easter/Passover Dinner
On Tuesday, April 07 th, 2009How our work in the kitchen will too be a prayer… Roast Leg of Lamb with Rosemary Balsamic Roasted Red Potatoes Baked Asparagus with Balsamic Butter Sauce Haroset for Passover Wholewheat Unleavened Bread Baby carrots And for dessert: New Life
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moreMessianic Passover Seder: Why Christians Celebrate Passover
On Wednesday, April 01 st, 2009Thinking on why Christians would celebrate Passover and the Seder Dinner as we prepare for Easter… I shouldn’t have been surprised when the questions came, probing, searching like a river rushing on. God knew they would. Didn’t He prophesy it millennia ago? “When your children ask their fathers in the time to come…’” (Joshua 4:21...
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moreMake an Easter Garden: A Visual Parable
On Tuesday, March 31 st, 2009Our beginning, and our mortal fall, began in a garden. Christ’s beginning to right that fall began in a garden, passion anguish dripping great drops of blood. Our new beginning began in a garden, stone rolled away to that echoing tomb, shroud whispering in the wind. So children and I, we make an Easter garden, a miniature remembering of the grief of old beginning, the da...
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moreSweet Supply
On Thursday, March 26 th, 2009I know not what occupied me those long hours of the nailing. But sometime this past week, the woods rang with the pounding of the hammer, echo over the hills, and I must have been busy. Oblivious, deaf. Spigots, they were, driven into the hearts of naked wood. Wood lined with summers known, winters lived, now exposed in chill of mid-March sun. ...
