In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of you, lone figure, silhouette, watching me drive on down the hill. I catch a glimpse of you, watching me, waving. You leaver, left behind. You pioneer, left to observe as I journey into a new land. You leaver, you stay, you grant me freedom to comeContinue reading “Leavings”
So often, after the illumination, this pulling back, this fear of following through on the promise. Revelation means responsibility; grace means response; promise means faith; vision means action. What will you do to take ownership of the gift that has been given to you?
What is important is the moment of opening a life and feeling it touch—with an electric hiss and cry—this speckled mineral sphere, our present world. – Annie Dillard It could be almost nothing—morning haze hovering on a hillside, a shimmer on the palm of my hand, the cool of evening coming in the window, words onContinue reading “Awakening”
When the light is fading just behind the hills and slants in just right, the asphalt looks flecked with gold, like a river of night, shimmering star-studded, whispering ‘Follow, follow…’ So I followed, bare feet on baked asphalt, following the sun sparks round the corner past the cricket field to the mystery tree. The mysteryContinue reading “Streets of Gold”
The days had lengthened. The sun had journeyed northward towards the point of convergence. There, briefly, the sun stood still, then subtly directed its path southward again. Solstice: a turning of the year, a turning of the light. Waypoint for our nomadic sun. A few hours later, already, daylight had shortened. The first day ofContinue reading “After Solstice”
What is this mystery—the way time goes? Time goes, shuffling on its feet or shooting past like a comet, lighting up a little darkness. Time goes, creating distance, creating space. Memories crash and shift like kaleidoscope patterns. Days interweave. Where have you come from? Where are you going? Moments of time—-patches of color: deep purpleContinue reading “Patchwork Days”
A few days ago I went for a spontaneous walk in the last hours of the day when the light was tinged with gold and the colors of the sky were shifting. And it was the most wonderful, to stand alone on a shining golden hillside with the wind making patterns in the wild grassContinue reading “What A Life I Lead When The Wind It Breathes: The Necessity of Extravagance”
So there I was, in the tangle of things, the mundane, trying to name things, grasping at presence. Naming anchors me, embodies me in the present, and affirms my joy and pain. Without this discipline, I would be swept away by the current of time and to-do lists, a wreck washed up on a distantContinue reading “The Naming of Things: Part Two”
I do not know many things for certain anymore. Knowing starts with words—speaking the right name for things. If there is anything I know for certain it is this: this world is bigger than I know and my words are small, so small. My words wither. The life I had shrinks away. I find myselfContinue reading “The Naming of Things”
Pry open your fists and let spill the gold of yesterday. Keep your hands empty for newness. Trust that it will come. It will come. Keep faith supple, malleable. Smash the idol of yesterday. With your permission, the one God becomes again Himself: limitless. All new now.