Had I in some form
learned the future
would I have asked for
unanswered prayer
and would that prayer have
gone unanswered?
Would the gift of prayer for
unanswered prayer
have been
unanswered . . . → Read More: Unanswered Prayer?
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Had I in some form learned the future would I have asked for unanswered prayer and would that prayer have gone unanswered?
Would the gift of prayer for unanswered prayer have been unanswered . . . → Read More: Unanswered Prayer? In memory of novelist Stephen Bly, here’s a repost of an article he shared last year on western novel research, especially as it relates to Cowboy for a Rainy Afternoon.
Do They Sweat in Duke City? / Fiction as Research New Mexico heat blanketed Albuquerque that July like too many covers in . . . → Read More: Do They Sweat in Duke City? / Fiction as Research (repost)
The Road of Life
At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president; . . . → Read More: The Road of Life (repost) They frolic out in the field, the three of them with their mamas. Picking their way through soybean sprouts. Camouflaged in corn stalks. The mamas are alert, protective. Dennis says the tree line is close to half a mile from me, and yet the mamas seem to hear and see me. They’re prepared to rush the . . . → Read More: Saturday Snaps: Cartwheels of Joy Joining Lisa Jo today for her five-minute word prompt on wonder.
GO! Sometimes I hurtle through my day with asteroid momentum, numb to the awe-tinged. Sometimes I just dog paddle through my week while glory swims around me. I rush through life at a frantic pace with eyes that do not see. I don’t stop . . . → Read More: Five Minutes with Wonder
We head east, past the field, past the house. Dennis leads the way. Turk’s a buckskin, part American Saddlebred. I follow on Lady, his part-Shetland strawberry roan. She’s my age, and I think she’s jealous. She limps. And swings her head around to nip at my feet. I call ahead. I think she’s . . . → Read More: Window on Writing: Whoa! My husband grew up on a dairy farm. I know what it’s like to roll under barbed and electric wire. I did it once when Bozo the bull charged. Though Dennis claims he was only curious. I tried to ride a stubborn burro once–who managed to simply lean against the cement milk house and smash my leg between it . . . → Read More: Textures of Text ~ Book Review: Give the Lady a Ride by Linda Yezak |
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