On Friday, May 11 th, 2012
Because there’s something about the sound of opening up a bag of seeds in spring. Something about holding a promise right there in the palm of your hand. And the Farmer’s whole tilled field, she’s laid right open, expectant and waiting. The Farmer’s got his Wranglers on and he’s got his hands into those seeds all like pearls and the man’s ...
On Tuesday, May 08 th, 2012
Houses may be bought, built, or borrowed. But homes can only be made. And only with bits of ourselves. The kids and I sit together close in a house with dishes on the counter and read about painters and artists and look at a flock of ducks, preened and nestled, a painting, oil on canvas. The children press in close for a better look at the open book, at Alexander Koester...
On Wednesday, May 02 nd, 2012
My Grandma Barbara Ruth, she ever only saw a cup one way. Didn’t matter if the tea’d been poured out or if the sky’d tipped over or the tap was still running loud. Every cup she ever held or tipped back or drank from, they were all right empty as far as she was concerned. She’d been dying of old age since she was 42. Every picnic was bound to get rained ...
On Thursday, April 19 th, 2012
‘God gives us time. But who has time for God? This may not make any good sense. A we...
On Friday, March 30 th, 2012
Why be crazy enough to homeschool? So a series of questions land in the inbox for a print article on homeschooling, asking how a Christian family makes education...
On Thursday, March 29 th, 2012
That is what came at the end. At the end of the day, aft...
On Monday, March 26 th, 2012
How long do I really have to figure it out? How long do I have to figure out how to live full of joy? So my husband might find himself married to a woman he loves being with. A woman who knows how to laugh at the days to come? So our children have these memories of a mama who smiles easy, listens long, makes jokes and praise and all these good days out of cra...
On Wednesday, March 21 st, 2012
It’s hard to know what that is — when it’s a spotlight that heats up a prophet’s fervor. When ardency kindles with a microphone and holiness is this blazing performance for audience and applause. But what is that, that zealous ember in the dark, when a...
On Tuesday, March 20 th, 2012
Malakai and his paints sprawl across the table like a bit of the sky run all down. These thousand colors in rain. That’s the way Malakai paints, dabbing in the underbelly of the darks, lining the greys with white light. He pulls this rainbow of colors back tight and he shoots for stars, right there on canvas. Even his hands boldly wear it, shades of the sky. I don’t...
On Thursday, March 15 th, 2012
I don’t know who said you couldn’t, but they were dead wrong. You could be death wish over a toilet, a flagrant sinner over a credit card, a Pharisee over a pulpit, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter a hill of beans. And it’s a hill I’d die on, because that’s exactly why a Carpenter really did: Whoever you are, wherever you’...
On Thursday, February 16 th, 2012
Bless this nest, Lord, of fragile things, encircling the breakable and broken in grace, in the ever warmth of Your wing, in the sheltering shadow of Your face, us the clinging ones, You our clutch of hope, singing to us the song of home. Resource: Bless Our Nest
On Tuesday, February 14 th, 2012
When he asked me what I wanted for Valentine’s Day? I’d grinned and said all I wanted was a clean house. I mean, National Geographics wave across the study like a sea. Boys erupt here, lego this lava everywhere. There are dolls, two girl in this blast of boys, and their stream of scissors, and papers, and...