On Saturday, February 02 nd, 2008
Love is patient… Yet love can only be patient when it is first grateful… And it can only be grateful when it remembers: There are no emergencies There are all, only, gifts There are never fears… That is what I am thinking as we pour pancake batter into the griddle on a Saturday morning. Milky, buttery circles loop about the pan in i...
On Wednesday, January 23 rd, 2008
They say a mother wears an apron and a myriad of hats. I say she wears a collar too. A collar which can never be removed. A collar which cannot be observed by the material world: a clerical collar. For she is a priest in her home, before a congregation of children. True, she snaps wet sheets onto the line, mashes heaping bowls of steaming potatoes, kneels to sc...
On Wednesday, January 09 th, 2008
from e.e. cummings: –how fortunate are you and i,whose home is timelessness: we who have wandered downfrom fragrant mountains of eternal nowto frolic in such mysteries as birthand death a day (or maybe even less). Lord, we live in You… who lives outside of time. Thank You for this dip into these mysteries…and then forever. HT: Mama Monk
On Friday, December 28 th, 2007
The catalogues are tucked away, their glossy lures apprehended. What was once wondered is now known, felt. The real gifts, the good ones, cannot be manufactured with their own USP bar codes. Real gifts aren’t shipped, but fall down from heaven, His fingerprints still fresh. In the quiet, after the wrapping paper is tossed in the trash, I open His Catalogue. ...
On Tuesday, November 20 th, 2007
Part Two: Father, we purpose to bend the knee each day and offer up hands of Thanksgiving. We count our blessings in our Thankful Journals; we nudge our souls: Forget not all His benefits. We do–forget, that is. And then You, (such grace), remind us (again). Before we think of putting up the tree, Father, perhaps we should put up this tree, a Thanksgivin...
On Thursday, November 01 st, 2007
They are known as the fleeting golden hours. Do they arrest you, too? Those gilded moments when a day is unwrapped and beheld, or packaged up and sent off. When that glowing ball of fire touches the rim of our understanding and we are startled awake. Radiance explodes and saturates the sky. Hues, surreal and otherworldly, suck the breath right out of our lun...
On Wednesday, October 31 st, 2007
Notes to self as I parent today: Connect…then direct. Instruction can only thrive in the soil of authentic relationship. Before offering instruction, consider how to touch the child gently. Think on how to frame all instructions in the context of a loving, affirming relationship. If instruction bears tensions then check out the soil: perhaps the relation...
On Monday, October 29 th, 2007
Peace isn’t a place we live in. The house—and me—spins: laundry, school lessons, library books, basketball games, bills, phone calls, meals, dishes, women’s Bible Studies, diapers. Too often, I am dizzy: Anyone know how to get off? In the whirl of it all, I crave retreat, sanctuary, monastery. On the milestone of my thirtieth birthday a few years ago...
On Wednesday, September 12 th, 2007
It had been a long day, with a few jarred hearts and some soul-bruising. His young frame filled the doorway. (When did that happen?) “Wanna play this game with me? I think it might help things… you know?” He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, waiting. “Yes. I can do that. Let’s.” He laid out the board, set up the ...
On Friday, September 07 th, 2007
How do we teach a child to lose his life, so he may find it? Jesus whispers the answer: “It is enough that a disciple be like his teacher” (Matthew 10:24). The answer is us. Jesus lived the giving-away life as our example, and now we live it as the model for this next generation. Awkwardly, but determinedly, I mindfully take up this generous way, quickening young ones to co...
On Thursday, September 06 th, 2007
These are harvest days. Beans roll golden. Wagons fill. Children ride with uncles, Grandpa, Dad, and Mama brings meals. We are a family, grateful and blessed to be. I worked these fields in the spring, with hopes, expectations. We laid seeds into this bed of earth. We tended Mom V.’s bedside. Tender shoots leafed, plants flowered, the promise of pods a...
On Thursday, August 23 rd, 2007
“An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up.” ~Proverbs 12:25 Kind words cup. Grace words weave a nest. Love words encircle, twining a safe haven. Yes, there are plans and the next thing to do. But no anxiety. Just kind words. Grace-soaked speech. Gentle interior talk. Cheering! Lord, cause me to build this...