I was about eight years old. Expressing myself in poetry and frustrated with my little brothers, I wrote a poem about boys. I don’t remember the words, but the gist of it was a rhyming song about their rambunctious, annoying and pestering attributes. I loved them but hated them and had no problem saying so …
Category Archives: Beginnings
Thirsty Land
“…For waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert…The scorched land will become a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water…” Isaiah 35:6-7 The daily demands of life, the pitfalls of fractured relationship, the exhaustion of pushing oneself onward up the mountain somehow clog my ears. I have trouble listening …
He Won’t Relent
“Put me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death, jealousy is as severe as Sheol; Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, nor will rivers overflow it…”-Song of Solomon 8: 6-7 ‘you won’t …
The Arrows
“….you will not be afraid of the terror by night or the arrow that flies by day…” Psalm 91:1-13 Arrows flying…at me… and I hear it clearly…”Go down to the Potter’s House.” O Master Potter! What dismay! What sorrow! What verses of lament come up out of me! These mother wounds, so unexpected, so hurtful, …
Broken Vase
She was meant for great things he said. She was beautiful she said. She was amazing they said. She defied the odds, her Mama said to the kindergarten teacher who spoke the unkind pronouncement that ‘she would never amount to anything’. Handed her diploma, a high school graduate with honors all four years, her Mama …
Skiing Too Fast
Flying in this little plane being tossed up and down as if dodging bumps in the air we are suddenly plunging downward in my body. The feeling of being pressed into my seat but still falling out of it is so confusing. I have no command of my memories as I am reminded of going …
Seeing Through the Wounds
Not long ago, and actually, several times throughout my life I was deeply wounded by someone very close to me. The wounds were such that I had to withdraw and hide out for a time. I could hardly control my anger when I would think about her. The hurt feelings would come bubbling up right …
Loving in the Hard Things
The deeply wounded make for very loud children. They clamor about, loudly proclaiming their offenses; flinging their hurt at whitewashed walls and thrashing their arms and legs in the river torrent. White foam overcomes them and wounds are torn open, spilling out the foul and decaying leftovers from years and years of hidden pain. They …
Vessels Unto Honor
Another day down at the Potter’s House and I’m lost in the reverie of playing in the mud. The clay is soft and wet under my fingers. The music floats around me and my mind is a million miles away in some imaginary kingdom. I turn this way and that but my eyes are fixed …
Counterfeits
This hands-on lesson in the garden points to a life lesson that many discover too late. The imposters flourish en cognito next to the real thing and we often let them stay until it is too late. They influence those around them, appear beautiful and are seemingly the genuine article only to be exposed when …