Liturgy #2 from the Email Series We believe, O Creator, that when You shaped us in our inmost beings, You saw all You made and said it was good.
At Christmastime my playmates would concoct elaborate plans to catch old St. Nick in the act, and bust that jolly man.
rain and drought am i sunlit vale and shadowed glen all and none collide
Inspired by the 4am/4pm poems Rachel Welcher penned in her breathtaking collection, Two Funerals Then Easter. In her Lenten book club, she challenged us to write our own version of these poems. Here they are. 4PM At 4 pm, I ordered you and your school-day energy out of the door.
Written for one of my email subscribers, after she told me of the heartbreak of being bullied and watching her child go through the same thing. Most days, O Lord, I choose to believe the words you said in that earliest Garden
Originally posted on Laura Kauffman:
Watch: it always comes right when you expect it least. The light slants, enchants; your spirit, wakening, hums and rouses the sleeping beast.
She’s always been heavy handed, my mother, when she lays the paint on her water-based canvas.
It strikes me now as I sit down to write some ill-tempered thoughts about motivation that blood is dripping from my knuckles
This poem was born as a note roughly scribbled in a notebook. I wrote it from deep in the Black Hills of South Dakota, as I drank coffee on the porch and marveled at how loud the silence was. i close the door and exhale
pour out liquid words