81Oct 10, 2014
Sometimes wishing for something else, something better, something other, nearly spoils the planting.  In our hands, we carry seed to sow, seed gritty in our fingers and sweaty in the palm.  But standing in the middle of I don’t want to, we scarely imagine the blooms that will come once we reluctantly leave those hard, dead […]
82Oct 3, 2014
This week, a departure for Kevin and me, a Sabbath rest: Tucked away, pulled back from the busy road and held–but lightly–by the trees, we hide beneath the fog. Â Sound is magnified here, somehow, or perhaps it is that other noise removed leaves room for hearing birdsong, the cheeky chatter of squirrels, the deep-throated gurgle […]
83Sep 26, 2014
Deep, empty night, and we brush our teeth, looking across at each other with eyes like moons. Â We both feel hollow-carved, like vulnerable husks reaching hungrily for rest. Â I have no thought except for the feel of the sheets beneath my legs. And then, a crash. Kevin and I look at each other briefly, asking […]
84Sep 19, 2014
From a grassy field roadside, I gather up the picture of a broken barn with history clear tumbling from it’s splintered walls, the jagged boards dark, like the trunks of trees. Â These planks, hewn from deadwood dragged, shaped over sawdust piles, sanded, treated, painted; nailed sharp, clean, with a satisfied whack—these planks caught the sweat […]
85Sep 5, 2014
She could not have known about the day, its prickly criticism and thick heat, its challenge and pursed lips and ungracious attitude.  She could not have absorbed its unkind words.  She could not have known how it all felt gray, in spite of the sun, or how many times I wondered why am I doing this […]
86Aug 22, 2014
Adam stands beside me and his voice climbs, higher and higher toward the sky, pushing, pressing, growing. Sing like never before, oh my soul. Like everyone else, Adam has different voices for different kinds of experience. Â This voice with which he sings is his voice for joy, for love, for comfort. Â It’s the same voice […]
87Aug 8, 2014
Beside the pool in the late morning, he suddenly kneels, leaning out over the water. Â Majestic clouds move across an unfathomable sky, changing the clear light as it travels down and washes over his bent body, the rustling trees, the white plastic chairs in orderly, framing lines. Â From my chair, I pause, gathering him […]
88Aug 1, 2014
He builds conversations out of her gratitude. Â Right now, while I write. Â I stop typing to listen, to respond, to touch him on the cheek. He stands just a few inches shorter than me, all bright blue eyes and sun-drenched skin, so golden brown he looks warm to the touch. Â When he speaks with intention, […]
89Jul 18, 2014
Afternoon, and the beach becomes another elegant art, a mosaic of striking contrasts. Â I love the seascape for the way she changes, for the intensity of her perspectives. Â Across the water I see rain, a blue black bruise on the horizon blurring the line God made between the deep sea and the boundless sky. Â I […]
90Jul 4, 2014
When we step onto the beach, the sea swells high and shimmers golden green in the sunlight. Â A storm matures unseen somewhere off the coast, out over the great deep. Â I know this, and still I cannot imagine how the water pools so high just here at the edge of the shore, why it gathers […]