Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
In the sweet stillness of early morning I light a candle. There’s nothing special about a bit of white wax and a wick in a small glass container but as the flame flickers it casts a glow where I need one. Come . . . There’s nothing magical about it; it is the hope candle because
Often, I take photographs looking out over the ridge where we live to the hills and clay cliffs across the valley. You’ve seen some of them here. Less frequently, I lift my lens toward the south because it’s just not as spectacular. And yet the view from there captivates me in a different way. Early
It's Monday. The last one before we enter the season of Advent and I wake with a fresh intention to walk through this week different than I have in recent weeks. Some words spoken yesterday, by our pastor in the online church service and by our daughter in good conversation later, nudge me toward a
It’s Friday again—or is it already—and I consider pulling together another Friday’s Fave Five post but can’t muster the effort. It’s been a week. One of those weeks. A week that included a meltdown precipitated by lack of sleep, lack of routine, and no lack of overthinking. Throw in a dash of the news cycle,
I wake to snow. It’s not unexpected, but as I stand at the window in the wee hours and look out over it I am struck by the magic. And reminded of an excerpt from The Presence of Absence that rungs as true today as when I wrote it. # # # It’s not yet
I grew up in a little house my dad built that was next door to a church. It wasn’t our church—we went to the larger United Church across the street. I crossed the street every Thursday evening for choir practice and gathered with other members of the children’s and adult choir in the basement on
I think there’s a skiff of white outside but I’m not sure. It’s still dark. When I came into the den with a Yorkie tucked under my left arm and a mug of soy milky frothy coffee in my right hand, before I bent to pick up dog toys scattered on the floor leftover from
It feels a little like I stumbled. I’m in the midst of one of those slow motion things where almost comical gyrations have taken over my body as I struggle to regain my balance. Only it’s not so comical. Know what I mean? In the morning I return to the peace of familiar words and
Now it is November and with the turning of the figurative calendar page comes the temptation to project. What will tomorrow hold? The rest of this month? This year? Anxiety rises with each what if? that bubbles to the surface. Yes, we are heading toward the short and darkest days of the year. Yes, there
The predawn sky is relatively clear. Rippled with clouds that glow in the moonlight and allow stars to peek through openings, it’s the most light I’ve seen up there for days. We’ve been under a blanket of oppressive fog and cloud. A week ago it was cold and white. Then we were graced with a warming
We have a new family member and are remembering how three pounds of Yorkshire terrier creates a very large ripple. Meet our boy, Murphy! He measures six inches to the top of his shoulders and at ten months, he’s not going to get much larger. (The camera angle in this photo makes him look much