On Friday, May 09 th, 2008
The criticism comes early in the day, burning. Apparently, I had botched it. Muddled it all. Truth for the speaker, a genuine experience that I needed to hear, attend to. Still, the words singed this heart. I let the words raze through the layers, smolder for hours, pieces of me blowing away, papery ash. It’s long and painful, this replay of searing words. The words keep rev...
On Thursday, May 08 th, 2008
I’ve known she’s been dying for quiet some time and (dare I confess?) no remorse has gnawed away at these insides, no aching sadness slowly draining. Just a happy relief washes over me when I think of it. Frankly, she needed to go, her demise long overdue. Rest in peace, my Drama Queen. You who listened to the news and ranted and raved. You who dove into online theo...
On Thursday, May 01 st, 2008
“The great painter boasted that he mixed all his colours with brains, and the great saint may be said to mix all his thoughts with thanks. All goods look better when they look like gifts.” –G.K. Chesterton, St. Francis of Assisi And isn’t that what it all is? Gifts, good gifts, from His hand. I’m learning to mix my simple life with thanks. ...
On Thursday, April 24 th, 2008
“As soon as you open the door, it hits you. ‘Ah, spring in the country!’ “ She laughs and offers her tousled red-haired daughter another cookie. “Well, it’s like I was telling Emily on the way over here. There isn’t a block in the whole county that doesn’t reek today.” The two friends chuckle and I nod and smile too, us this cluster of communi...
On Wednesday, April 23 rd, 2008
Thoughts I keep returning to as I breathe; as I offer up prayers of thanks… and what convicts me when, too often, I don’t. What will be left of this soul come its last days on earth? What will all my days amount to? In the end, what will I have become?Oh God, give grace to live in prayer, to steep long in Your Word, so when all is stripped away, this is what is left...
On Tuesday, April 22 nd, 2008
I stand in the dark of a house lulled to sleep, just standing there on quiet floor planks, before a stretch of black glass, the only glow that of the yard light at the corner of the barn spilling its milky pool of white. Last light’s out. I’m ready for a pillow, to call it a day. All’s, finally, almost, still. Somewhere far over our heads and this roof a...
On Sunday, April 20 th, 2008
Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing,Call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet,Sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,Mount of Thy redeeming love. ~Robert Robinson, Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing… Photo: sxc.hu
On Friday, April 18 th, 2008
Slowing to listen yesterday to the the quiet sounds of a singing world…. flaking sound of scooping oatmeal robins singing early whistle of pressure cooker echo of children laughing in empty rooms tractor humming far off in fields book pages turning creak of opening mailbox toddler sobs ebbing to peace boys humming hymns click...
On Thursday, April 17 th, 2008
We hear them far off in the woods, just as the sun sinks further down, and I stop, like you do when the world slips up behind and surprises you, and he can’t believe it either, so we stand there and listen long and neither one of us can stop smiling. The frogs have returned. Then, after a bit, he and the dog go crashing off through the quiet of dusk coming down, worn carpet o...
On Wednesday, April 16 th, 2008
The stars blink and I sink down into pillow, weary and ready for sleep. But these whispered words, a prayer at night, arrest, grab me and shake me up: “O Lord of Grace, I have been hasty and short in private prayer,O quicken my conscience to feel this folly, to bewail this ingratitude…. Keep me at all times from robbing thee,and from depriving my soul of thy due wor...
On Tuesday, April 15 th, 2008
Visit “Of Poets and Saints” for the why of “The Psalm in my Pocket”…. “Let us come before his presence with thanksgivingand raise a loud shout to him with psalms.’ ~ Psalm 95:1 “To you I lift up my eyes,to you enthroned in the heavens. As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters,and the eyes of a ...
On Monday, April 14 th, 2008
There is a patch behind the country church with its split rail fence, there beside the quiet of the woods, where heaven meets earth and I stand there in the early morning still. Clouds, grey and swelling with spring, loll over. Brown leaves, fall’s remnant left behind by winter just gone, lay wet underfoot. Only the sound of water trickling off the water mill there in the...