Before the sun slipped down on the Sabbath, Mary might have pressed aloe leaves and squeezed their gum into a dish, mixing it with myrrh and water. Carrying it to a buried Jesus at dawn must have felt like a last, little fragrant offering. But when she saw the sunrise streaming into an open tomb, … Continue reading Leaves of Healing
You're a writer, and suddenly, it's 1940 again, and the streets are dark because the blackout curtains are pulled tight. But behind them, there's a lamp in the window of a second-story university room, where Jack Lewis and his brother brew tea and smoke. The bell of Christ's Church tolls nine as they wait for … Continue reading A Table in 1940
I remember reading where C.S. Lewis and his friends (J.R.R. Tolkien among them) would sometimes walk a days’ journey across the English countryside together, stop at a pub for beer and rest, then take up their walking sticks again the next morning. “It was an idyllic way to spend three or four days. Footpaths were … Continue reading Writers On Walking
There were seeds that got thumb-printed into the ground, and there was bread dough that hadn’t risen. There were farmers and fishermen. There were women in labor, who groaned and bled into the darkness. Jesus saw what surrounded him and pulled it into the stories he told, because a King and Kingdom had come, were … Continue reading Like a Seed
I'm thankful for books. Here are the ones on 2020's shelf--- all forty of them, and each was good and glory-reflective in its unique way. (I've linked to Goodreads, where you can thumb through each book a little more.) Cheating Death by Larry Kaniut The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis The Return of the … Continue reading 40 Books on My Shelf
There’s a lot I could do, write, remember, cry over, and give thanks for at the end of 2020. I keep shadowboxing the scary idea of summing it all up— wrestling the last twelve months into a corner and chalking them up as “good,” “terrible,” or “sanctifying” (all the above). But summaries tend to accentuate … Continue reading A Year in Books
This article was written for and published on StoryWarren.com. Samwise had climbed too many stairs with Shagrat drooling on his heels. He’d blasted through Cirith Ungol’s gates with Galadriel’s light. He’d searched every black corner for Frodo, and now, his master was a tower trapdoor out of reach. So Sam sang nursery rhymes into Mordor. … Continue reading The Song that was Sharper than Sting
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