On Tuesday, June 07 th, 2011
Even if there’s a ring of yesterday’s dirt still in the tub and more math lessons waiting to finish in June. If regrets hound hard and doubts circle around, around, scavengers picking at hopes… If the to-do list is longer than the Mississippi and there isn’t enough ink to check it all off and if just right now… just as right now wondrously is ...
On Saturday, May 14 th, 2011
‘The breaking of the alabaster box and the anointing of the Lord filled the house with the odor, with the sweetest odor. Everyone could smell it. Whenever you meet someone who has… gone through things for the Lord, willing to be imprisoned by the Lord, just being satisfied with Him and nothing else, immediately you scent the fragrance. There is a savo...
On Wednesday, May 11 th, 2011
He’s only had three hours sleep, and no sleep the 24 hours before that, and he’s dead tired but he’s rising again before light because he believes in resurrection. “You okay?” I touch his back at the edge of the bed as he pulls on his shirt. “Gotta keep going.” He smiles gentle. Wrinkles make fence lines across his brow. This land, it is making us old. It is maki...
On Tuesday, April 26 th, 2011
At the gate, flying to Portland today, to speak at the Q conference (oh, if He leads, if you’d lend this girl holding on to Jesus’ hand a few prayers, I’d be mighty grateful!) … and I’m sitting here remembering these words, and giving thanks for friends like you: my beautiful mama loving me deep & loving on our kids while I quietly share ...
On Friday, January 14 th, 2011
In a morning in winter, my chronic illness wakes fierce and its lunging roar devours, and I fall out of remission and into the hot pain tears. And a child glares icy, slams a door hard, and the walls shake my heart sad. Brothers bicker. The dog eats the roast I had cooked for lunch. I laugh! I can’t believe it. And I can. I glug down more water, more pain medication, more...
On Saturday, January 01 st, 2011
May all your wanderings this weekend, kindest friends, peer through the future’s frosted glass trusting. Every blessing on your New Year! :: All’s grace, :: ::
On Friday, August 06 th, 2010
Only a few more weeks left now. That is what the Farmer says at dinner, what he says as we clatter dishes off the table, the enamel plates all stacking and clapping for the cook. Only a few more weeks left and August will dip the beans fields bronze and the leaves will reluctantly fall off the beanstalks and just the pods will then dangle, the only rattling ornaments hanging o...
On Friday, July 16 th, 2010
“But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They’re like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers— Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season. ~ Jeremiah 17:7-9 (And coming up: a post for (in)courage...
On Saturday, May 15 th, 2010
When I open the washing machine door after the blur-spin, they clink clatter to the floor, the one errant nail, a lost dime, so clean, three pieces of lego, yellow and stacked, a matchbox car. I collect — and it’s my brother who always says that, shrugging shoulders, acquiesced and surrendered. “It all comes out in the wash.” May your wanderings this...
On Friday, November 20 th, 2009
I‘m standing at the counter, day seeping in without knocking, jotting down a list of the day’s tasks, the work of a week, in my journal, and it’s just a tad overwhelming and I am trying to remember just to breathe… And then I am fifteen, that summer I grip the handlebars of a Honda Goldwing, weave around margarine tubs set up as pylons in the backyard. ...
On Thursday, October 29 th, 2009
Never fear shadows. They simply mean there’s a light shining somewhere nearby.” ~Ruth E. Renkel The Lord is my light and my salvation— so why should I be afraid? ~Ps. 27:1 Related:Fear’s the First Step of FaithBe Not Afraid Photos: Hope-girl walks the lit leavesShare your thoughts?…Would you like Holy Experience delivered to you quietly via ema...
On Friday, September 11 th, 2009
I thought the story was already written. It wasn’t. Standing in freckles of September light across orchard, I shake my head… can’t believe it, really. I had forgotten that He can’t stop writing and it’s always good. But I’m remembering March, and this post: I walk down the back lane, then home, up through the orchard, spring and I making sm...