We stood at my grandma Karen’s grave on Palm Sunday, the wind matting the grass and making all the fake grave flowers tremble. Dad brought a bundle of daffodils from Papa Larry’s garden, and as he tucked them in the granite vase, I said I hoped they wouldn’t blow away. But it’s early April and … Continue reading Grave Flowers
I was out for a walk yesterday, brown leaves hurrying across the street, when I met my neighbor Mrs. Brenda. Before she asked it, I knew her question: "How's your book?" she called over the whir of a leaf blower. She's an author herself, and when I told her I was breaking ground on a … Continue reading Upon A Year Inside the Conservatory
My favorite part of Fritz’s funeral was when his friends got up to tell stories about him--- how he got locked inside the city dump once, how he ate breakfast at Wimpy’s diner every week, and how the waitresses kept a bottle of special syrup there just for him. Fritz was man with his eyes … Continue reading Fritz
Someone gave me a composition notebook for my fourteenth birthday and told me to write blessings in it, to number them. I think the goal was 10,000, but I lost count after awhile, and the “thanksgivings” turned into little observations of the world around me: The house is quiet this morning. Elsie learned to roll … Continue reading The Things I’ve Seen
I made a list of foods over the weekend (and made myself hungry doing it): Cucumbers and crackers and cheeses and grapes and tea and butter for scones. If I couldn’t remember something, I tried to imagine Bilbo’s pantry and the Dwarves’ feast as they ravaged it. After all, Hutchmoot is a place for eating … Continue reading A Taste of the Feast & A Prayer for Hutchmoot
Our porch lights were on when we pulled up the drive at 1 A.M. last Tuesday morning – Joel, Trent, Janaya, and I. A strong, warm wind was in the trees, and a patch of stars blinked between clouds. (Maybe it's the way music works in me, but things always seem more vivid and alive … Continue reading Souls
I listen to a news briefing as I walk Edgewood, warm winds tossing the trees. I hear there are bodies being flung from planes. I don’t remember seeing the little American flag on Rivara’s mailbox before. Old Highway 50 is hot and quiet, and there are black-eyed Susans and zinnias growing around that tin-roofed house … Continue reading Homefront
If I could find the stamina, I’d like to pick up Metaxas’s big biography and sit down with Dietrich Bonhoeffer for the rest of the summer, reading his words, his wisdom, his sermons, his German heritage, his spy work against Hitler, his imprisonment, his love story, his death. History is one of the things I … Continue reading Two Legs on God’s Earth
I noticed the halls didn’t smell like green beans and urine like most other nursing homes I'd known. People smiled here. (Except for the secretary who yelled at us through the glass that the code was 1080, and that we’d have to let the cook know we wanted to share lunch with Ms. Louise, because … Continue reading Ms. Louise
When Jesus says, “Stay dressed for action and keep your lamps burning” in Luke 12:35, I get two images from Tolkien’s The Return of the King. The first is of Minas Tirith— a stone fortress towering against the enemy realm of Mordor. I see Pippin the hobbit bumping between soldiers who are rushing to find … Continue reading Part Three: Belonging in a Kingdom
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