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Another five minutes flat today with Lisa Jo on the word open. Join us?
GO! Close! I’m glad to close the door on this year. So. Glad. As I stand at the threshold of the new, God, give me eyes to see . . . → Read More: Close – Open The night after Christmas. The night after Operation Roaster Turkey Fail.
The night of Operation Oven Turkey Success. The family gathers here–eight of us, including Grace and Lillee. We eat (the first family meal I’ve cooked in months) and play Scattergories (I’m a loser), and the kids wrestle in the living room like they used to, . . . → Read More: One Word: Order
I held you captive in my sight While you focused on the light You pulled strings, made magic sleight I love my new cookbook, The Best of the Best from Michigan. I can’t wait to try the Country Tomato Pie or the So-Creamy Sweet Potato Soup or Bev’s Strawberry-Pecan Salad or the Bengal Lime Curry. But I also love all the Michigan trivia that it includes. Like the ones I’m sharing over at The Barn Door today. . . . → Read More: Textures of Text: Michigan Food and Trivia
The world changed overnight. This morning it hangs all wet and white. Pines bow to the weight, and the snow pillows soft on the hardwood branches, nestles in the crooks of tree arms. It still falls, silent. It’s a wonder. Christmas has come. And gone. And I’m glad. The gift-giving, it gets me every year. I want to do it. I get caught . . . → Read More: Christmas Has Gone, and I’m Glad
Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:
. . . → Read More: Sunday Seasoned Sayings: Light for Revelation
I wish you a Mary Christmas. Stunned by His reflection. Flattened at His feet. As you wait. And worship Heady with His fragrance. “Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with . . . → Read More: Flattened for a Mary Christmas (Repost)
I’ve been thinking about this seed of Yahweh planted in the cave of a woman-child. Confined and nurtured in soft dark womb, nourished with her every heartbeat. And how cells of cell multiplied until he fluttered light. Then stretched and rose like yeast bread in her warm belly. Until her body could no longer contain him. How the walls . . . → Read More: Seed of Yahweh
I toss some change into the red kettle before I go through WalMart’s door. The tree of a ringer man smiles broad. “God bless you, and Merry Christmas!” “God bless you, too, and Merry Christmas,” I murmur. But I wonder if my piddly coins can really make a difference. I’ve come for a few groceries. I usually don’t . . . → Read More: I’m Just Not Into Christmas |
  Be a deep see diver. Deep See Diving     
    
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Copyright © 2012 Sandra Heska King - All Rights Reserved |
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