On Saturday, March 01 st, 2008
We reject Him, sin against Him, betray Him. But He pursues relentlessly. In the face of heartache. Our behavior drives Him deeper into relationship. He knows full well that the relationship problem is not a result of His failure to love, but the stoniness of His children’s hearts. It is not an issue of how much Father loves His children, but how much, if at all, His childre...
On Thursday, February 21 st, 2008
I don’t remember when I stopped touching him. Lanky legs, stretching back were signs for me…signs to distance and retreat. Signs of Caleb emerging as a man. And, who was I to touch the skin that clothes a future man? Perhaps it was mere self-protection, withdrawing before he, inevitably, rejected his coddling mother? Or maybe it was where I came from: cuddling babies was a...
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 interconnected rin...
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 scrub the grime tha...
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. Gift: Light...
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 Thanksgiving Tree? For reall...
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 lungs. Sunrise up...
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 relationship needs fertil...
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, my sister-in-la...
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 stack of cards, a...
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...