When Loss is Real–or Not
I’m better this morning. Last night I hid in the bathroom for a few moments where I flushed the toilet (so the husband and the grandgirl wouldn’t ask what was going on with me.) I blew my nose, popped my contacts, rubbed my eyes hard, and ran cold water over my face. I didn’t want to explain why I was overwhelmed over something on my computer other than this video. Maybe it’s because I’ll leave for Haiti in less than four weeks. (I might even get to meet Samedy. I hope not. I hope he’s in Nashville by then. Please pray.) Maybe it’s because I’m watching a fund fueled in record time–a fund that will build a school for hope–by Christmas. Or that I’m wearing a necklace purchased because of a...
Hymns, Heartbreak, and Healing
Fractured hearts and ragged emotions. Some in our church are hurt and angry and scared. Because we’re going through change. Major change. Last month we switched from two Sunday morning services–one traditional and one contemporary–to one single service. Generations no longer divided. And our pastor believes this is of God. That He is leading us on a path to as yet unknown places. That we are to no longer be “them” and “us.” But one family. Together. Generation upon generation upon generation. He opened his message Sunday like this: We’re in the series entitled, To Save a Family, and this is the fourth in that series today. And the message is entitled, Strong Families Raise Good Decision Makers. And here’s...
I See Glory
The dark begins to fade gray and the world looks like my bathroom after a shower. The fog has come on little cat feet. It sits on silent haunches and looks over the field. Waiting. In the spirit of God in the Yard, I pour a cup of coffee in my Michigan mug (I know it should be tea) and take Gracee’s red and blue Dora blanket to the porch. I settle in a rocker. Quiet. Except for the constant churn of highway traffic. The noise of life. Moving here. Moving there. Going where? Even the birds are hushed. I think by not thinking. I move by not moving. I walk as I sit. There are changes coming. I see it dimly in the split-colored tree in front of me and in the leafless tree next to it the two bookmarked by towering evergreens. I feel it as I inhale the damp and...
Seasons and Changes
I’m fascinated by the corn this year. I watched as the rich brown mother earth opened its womb and embraced the seeds, protecting them and nourishing them. I saw the tender shoots peek out and grow into little green toddlers, then teens, and now towering mature adults. They are time tanned, dried and brittle, and now cradle their own children. They wait for the coming harvest, when–in the cutting, stripping, and chopping–they will give up their young. And then return to the soil to nourish another generation. Soon even the trees will be stripped, some storm tossed and broken. Prepared for rest. It’s the season of change. Even now the wind steals leaves and whips them into little tornadoes that swirl and snuggle the moss roses...
Meet Sandy
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April 19-21, 2013 (past but not forgotten)
American Christian
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