Have you met my friend, Lyla?
“I do my thinking in the bleachers and my writing in the living room with balls flying, bats or clubs swinging and ESPN on in the background. When Spongebob comes on, I get nothing done.”
She writes, she says, because there are words. And because she doesn’t know how not to.
Lyla’s a property and casualty insurance adjustor who lives in South Dakota.
She’s not afraid to get down in ditches. (I love when she takes her camera.)
Or to crawl into tight places.
She dresses in layers.
And she writes in layers.
I love how she puts words together.
How she pieces a story from a day’s scraps.
I came down with a burned and bruised backside but wondering, had that vent been on the other slope instead, what I might have burned or bruised in my boy’s tender eyes and heart. For his body might belong to a man. But his insides aren’t ready for all that just yet.
How she puts flesh to a file.
This woman I never knew, whose post mortem details are spread in black and white in front of me, who dressed in comfortable cotton layers as I am known to do, is missing a shoe.
And when she writes about the Word, I love how she sees deep and brings a different perspective.
Like her series on John 9.
And in the moment Jesus tells the man that He is He, the man believes, and worships, and finds that enough can be so much more.
Or this story about Peter.
If Peter’s pockets bulged with his own resources, would the miracle have crossed his mind?
You really need to get to know her.
Check out her blog, A Different Story.
Go rested. She’ll make you think.