A Monday Prayer

Faith is not science. Faith transcends logic as love transcends calculations. Faith is not statistics but a relationship with God that over time makes one wise, not certain. Scot McKnight Lord, keep me from the propensity to want to be right and certain and puffed up with knowledge. Meet me in the mystery. Teach me

These Days . . .

It's almost 2pm as I write this and it's dark. Next week at this time it will be darker because this weekend we turn our clocks back an hour. I wish we'd stop trying to mess with time but, for now at least, we persist. The end of Daylight Saving Time starts our descent into

Here and Now

I finally tended to the carrots we harvested from our backyard garden many weeks ago. They've been resting on the back deck waiting for me to get a burst of energy and turn my attention to them. This morning I brought them in, washed, and chopped some for soup and others for munching, and the

The Comfort of Home

Laurinda and Makiya have run out to the store. Gerry is downstairs—booking hikes or playing solitaire on his computer, I'd wager. Maya and Murphy are munching on their supper—a delectable mixture of Royal Canin Yorkshire Terrier kibble with a touch of Royal Canin loaf and gravy mixed in for flavour. This, mostly for Maya's sake.

Monday, Monday

I'm having a quiet, albeit busy, Monday morning. With Makiya at school, Laurinda and work, and Gerry out hiking, it's just me, Maya, Murphy (who, incidentally, joined our family one year ago today), and a pretty kitty named Chica who is still adjusting to being a Kamloopsian. Earlier, the dogs and the cat declared a

An Unreasonable Facsimile

I’m sitting here in the den (or snug, as I’ve taken to calling it) cozy under a Sherpa blanket and sipping a mug of Yerba mate tea. The dogs are curled up next to me—also on Sherpa blankets—and have gone back to sleep. We’re the only ones up. I glance out the top of the window