I’m all about nature writing, especially when the words are woven as beautifully as they are in this book, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. Okay, so the last part of that title sounds… well, boring. Trust me, it’s not. Elizabeth Gilbert calls the book, “A […]
Read-to-Write: Nature-Deficit Disorder (1)
I grew up on a lake–practically lived in the woods–and did all kinds of things outdoors that these days would be considered too dangerous. There was little on TV (we got maybe two stations) and no electronic “gizmology.” Books were my best friends, and I often read them outside. Last week my husband and I […]
learning to color inside the lines
I’m pretty sure my heels left ruts in the red clay when my husband’s transfer pulled us from the Georgia pines to the Florida palms. I was quite happy nestled in my Southern belle box with my magnolia blossoms and sweet tea. With the help of a Country Living featured decorator, I’d finally feathered a comfortable […]
when you neglect your body
I throw off everything that could weight me down while I weigh myself–first thing in the morning, before a drop of water passes my lips. I smile because the needle settles a few pounds lower, and I know it’s because of my recent illness. Sickness has its benefits. I mentally pummel myself for all […]
follow me–or when you only think you’re a christian
Follow me. We had 45 minutes’ notice of a Friday night basketball camp. I tossed the book in my purse, and while Grace got instruction, I sat on the lowest bleacher and read. Before I’d gotten through the first chapter, my gut started to churn, and I thought it might disgorge itself right there […]
in which my son wears the mask of God in his work
What else is all our work to God–whether in the fields, in the garden, in the city, in the house, in war, or in government–but just such a . . . [way] by which He wants to give His gifts in the fields, at home, and everywhere else? These are the masks of God, behind […]
when we work without love
We were back in the supply room, gathering trays and sterile equipment for our cases. She was griping about something. I don’t remember what. But as we hurried down the hall with arms full, she shook her head and sighed. “Why are you always so happy?” I just shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s […]
