Of False Signs and Feathered Hope

There was thunder.

And there was lightning.

And Grace called, all whispers.

“Grandma, I was just in bed saying my prayers. And I asked God to bring Great-Grandma back. And I asked Him to give me a sign that she was coming. And right then there was this big flash. And . . . she’s coming back!”

“No, Grace. That . . . → Read More: Of False Signs and Feathered Hope

Scripture Sunday: Stop!

Taking in His wonders today with Deidra . . . → Read More: Scripture Sunday: Stop!

Still Saturday: For Want of Rest

 

Welcome to Still Saturday where we pause after a busy week, move in quiet pilgrimage, maybe linger a while in some still place, and soak in the beauty of images and words. We’d love for you to join us. Get the details above, grab your favorite button, and link up below. We all love to hear . . . → Read More: Still Saturday: For Want of Rest

In Every Muddy Moment

 

I aimed and fired.

“I don’t NEED you!”

All over a pair of muddy boots. The ones I wore to chase wonders down by Lake Abby a few weeks back. The ones that are always in the back kitchen.

I’d asked him to wash them off for me. He said he would. Now I can’t find them, and I . . . → Read More: In Every Muddy Moment

Rumors of Wine

 

There are rumors of water.

And Time winds

down hidden hallways,

sips tea with feathered memories

and eats bagels with Imagination

who sees beyond what is

to what can be

in gaping holes and

medieval laundry baskets

and berry-colored bottles.

In time, Time whispers . . . → Read More: Rumors of Wine

Clinging to the Muchness of This

 

Isaiah 43:1

“I’m adopted!” I spit those words at my parents and slammed the door. It was about the worse thing I could think of to say.

I didn’t know what adopted meant, but I was pretty sure it meant I didn’t belong.

That they didn’t really love me.

How . . . → Read More: Clinging to the Muchness of This

Of Eyebrows and Impossibilities

 

Grace throws her green backpack on top of the pink and blue three-ringed notebooks on the floor in front of the passenger seat. She settles her flip-flopped feet on top of it all, buckles up and pulls down the visor. She studies herself in the mirror while she brushes her hair.

“My top eyelashes are . . . → Read More: Of Eyebrows and Impossibilities

Scripture Sunday: Each Word a Gift

 

May nothing but love-wrapped gifts drip from your lips today.

. . . → Read More: Scripture Sunday: Each Word a Gift

Still Saturday: When All is Still

 

The great day balances upon the leaves;
My ears still hear the bird when all is still;
My soul is still my soul, and still the Son,
And knowing this, I am not yet undone.

~Theodore Roethke in Infirmity

 

Welcome to Still Saturday where we pause after a busy week, move in quiet pilgrimage, maybe . . . → Read More: Still Saturday: When All is Still

It’s the Climb

 

We called it a salt lick, the stand in the woods behind our house. I never saw salt, and I never saw deer licking it. But it made a great platform to climb up on and belt out words to a standing-room-only crowd. This audience swayed to the melodies, whispered their appreciation, and clapped their praise.

I . . . → Read More: It’s the Climb