Sandra Heska King

I Belong in this World–and I am Angry

By Sandra, on April 23rd, 2012

I don’t know what to expect.

But I pack a new lunch bag with seven-grain rolls, cheese, snow peas, carrots, and blueberries. I toss in a dark chocolate bar and a packet of tea bags. I fill a new stainless container of water.

I pack a suitcase, stuff pencils and notebooks and gum in a small backpack.

I leave . . . → Read More: I Belong in this World–and I am Angry

Scripture Sunday: My Sad Life

By Sandra, on April 22nd, 2012

I’m feeling terrible—I couldn’t feel worse!
Get me on my feet again. You promised, remember?
When I told my story, you responded;
train me well in your deep wisdom.
Help me understand these things inside and out
so I can ponder your miracle-wonders.
My sad life’s dilapidated, a falling-down barn;
build me up again by your Word.
Barricade the road . . . → Read More: Scripture Sunday: My Sad Life

Still Saturday: In Stillness and Simplicity

By Sandra, on April 21st, 2012

In stillness and simplicity

In the silence of the heart I see

The mystery of Eternity

Who lives inside of me.

~Michael Card

Welcome to Still Saturday where we pause after a busy week, move in quiet pilgrimage, maybe linger a while in some fragrant place, and soak in . . . → Read More: Still Saturday: In Stillness and Simplicity

And I’m Off

By Sandra, on April 18th, 2012

I was so looking forward to the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College starting tomorrow.

And hanging with friends from The High Calling.

But Monday night I started to cough.

On Tuesday my chest felt heavy, and I lost my voice.

I felt utterly exhausted.

Got my feathers ruffled.

Facebook friends started to pray.

Then . . . → Read More: And I’m Off

In Which I Cultivate My Wild Side–Or Not

By Sandra, on April 17th, 2012

Someone landed on my blog the other day when they searched for “Hoosier cabinet.”

I doubt they found what they were looking for. That short little post was written in response to L.L. Barkat’s suggested writing exercise from God in the Yard to play with words.

In the section on “Habits” from her newest book, Rumors of Water, she . . . → Read More: In Which I Cultivate My Wild Side–Or Not

Small Cups and Petaled Moments

By Sandra, on April 16th, 2012

We gather around the T-shaped Sunday School tables, and she tells us about the time the lady next door decided to burn papers just as the wind picked up. But before long, the fire escapes its confines and surrounds the house.

She calls the fire department and runs next door to rescue the children, but instead the . . . → Read More: Small Cups and Petaled Moments

Scripture Sunday: Revere and Respect

By Sandra, on April 15th, 2012

Make the Master proud of you by being good citizens.
Respect the authorities, whatever their level;
they are God’s emissaries for keeping order.
It is God’s will that by doing good,
you might cure the ignorance of the fools who think you’re a danger to society.
Exercise your freedom by serving God, not by breaking the rules.
Treat everyone you . . . → Read More: Scripture Sunday: Revere and Respect

Still Saturday: Breathe with Joy

By Sandra, on April 14th, 2012

Yet these sweet sounds of the early season,

And these fair sights of its sunny days,

Are only sweet when we fondly listen,

And only fair when we fondly gaze.

There is no glory in star or blossom,

Till looked upon by a loving eye;

There is no . . . → Read More: Still Saturday: Breathe with Joy

Five Minute Friday: In Which She is Afraid to Say Hello

By Sandra, on April 13th, 2012

We’re on the way to school, and I tell Grace how Great-Grandpa is home and can’t drive and is lonesome since Great-Grandma died. I tell her how he likes us to call, to hear our voices.

“I don’t know if he’ll be up yet,” I say, “but let’s try.”

He answers on the second ring, and I say . . . → Read More: Five Minute Friday: In Which She is Afraid to Say Hello

I’m Drunk

By Sandra, on April 12th, 2012

God’s been romancing me this week.

Wooing me in pinks and golds and greens and blues.

I drink His beauty, but I can’t get enough.

I take photo after photo from the kitchen window of the blooming tree next to the garage, about 40 feet away (and discover that the big girl camera has captured a bee) and of . . . → Read More: I’m Drunk