What is the heft of a quiet life that her grandchildren carry today? More than the weight of a mother and wife as they solemnly march to her grave. They bear the imprint of soft, storied arms from her lifelong earnest art honed by the tasks of family and farm and a gentle, loving heart. Heavy their hearts as the memories gel and the tears … Continue reading Pallbearing
Graveside 10-3-21 As we settle our collective breath and feel the veil gently gliding open for a holy glimpse a bird calls from the sidelines the sky weeps silent tears the air faithfully allows itself to be filtered into eulogy and prayer the tear-soaked soil receives collects along with all who will enter its moist embrace alive with dead things. Sing! Accept the way of … Continue reading We Remember Him
I heard a casual remark the other day that started me thinking about our cultural atmosphere, both right now and before the quarantine measures began. Three months ago we were still in the throes of the vicious political rhetoric that has despoiled public discourse as well as family mealtimes and friendships. Now that we are more than two months into the epidemic, nasty rhetoric is … Continue reading Commentary on an Epidemic
I share the sadness of thousands who were shocked this month at the death of Rachel Held Evans. The experiences she wrote about in the church and beyond the faith of her upbringing resonated deeply with me. I attended all but one of the “Why Christian?” conferences she led with Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber. I sang traditional hymns alongside a thousand others at those gatherings, with … Continue reading Church, Pie, and Rachel Held Evans
The pain he bore upon the cross was heavy, breaking him and not the scale on which he hung. Its heft was lightened only by the blood that leaked and dropped onto his earth. The soil beneath receiving liquid seed was not newly stained but saturated time and time before by rebels’ hearts spilled out. Their desperation dried and dead now mingled with his love … Continue reading Good Friday 2019: Spillage
Some of my favorite people are farmers. They are practical, resilient, smart, deeply committed to their work, and graced with a sense of humor, if only for longevity’s sake. A few weeks ago a cattle farmer named Russell Christensen died. He was a dedicated father and grandfather, a wise leader in his church and community, a fun-loving storyteller, and a key player in the growth … Continue reading For Russell
In July my husband and I took a side trip to Philadelphia and Gettysburg before meeting my family in North Carolina for our biennial reunion. He has enjoyed reading about the Civil War, so we were excited to have the chance to stay in Gettysburg itself (right next to the house where Abraham Lincoln polished his famous address!). We hired a personal guide who took … Continue reading Gettysburg
Unhurried morning stepping out our door coffee warming surf pounding eyes trained on the horizon anticipating surprise of spout breach delight whales tasting air reminding themselves that they dwell in the deeps Unearthly noise breaks the mood MISSILE INBOUND TAKE SHELTER Disbelief Confusion Disturbance breaking the surface Malevolence invading questioning the balance reaching its dark finger to strum the cord between human and human Unexpectedly … Continue reading Oahu, January 13
My friend Terry was a farmer, a man who embodied faith and joy. Rising early first thoughts of tasks toil contained in a vessel of trust and praise and thanks Pulling on worn jeans familiar as the breakfast and markets soft voices going over the day’s schedule flexible as farming requires prayer intention a joke or two a wry acceptance of what is here … Continue reading For Terry
My thoughts on Marie Howe’s poem “The Gate” “I had no idea that the gate I would step through to finally enter this world would be the space my brother’s body made.” I feel sometimes as though the gate I step through to see the world is my mother’s smile. I feel my lips forming her smile and feel my eyes turning into hers, twinkling … Continue reading About “The Gate”
saint sinner seeker 