An acquaintance and I were discussing what we want to do that will be meaningful as we grow older. “I am not going to color!” was her strong statement. There was a hint of disgust in her tone. I love to color. I have a nice set of pencils and markers and several books. When I am upset or puzzling about a problem keeping my hands busy as I stew frees me to clarify my processing. I love to see patterns change as I choose one color over another or accentuate one part of the design instead of another. There have been times when I have wished I had made a copy to do differently so I could see a different potential. Recently I chose a page with twenty different small patterns. I made the decision
On my hands and knees, scrapping years of paint off the trim, I thought about the children who have played there and my own daughter who will play there soon. It seems strange to think about a house offering hospitality and yet and I can’t shake the feeling of welcome I get from this house. Welcoming us into the next chapter in our lives. It’s 120 years old, a lot of life has been lived there. I’m surrounded by remnants from a life I’ll never experience; a patched-up hole in the wall where the wood burning stove used to be, caps on the ceilings where oil lamps used to hang. And here we come with our modern ideas and expectations and WIFI…the old farmer who built this place couldn’t have imag
Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the disciples and said: “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in.” The Message Bible Matthew 18:3 Sitting on a woman’s lap across from me at the table was one of the cutest little girls I have seen. She was drinking from a small bottle of water and trying to replace the cap when its contents spilled on her lap and then ran into the boot of the woman, bringing her suddenly back to reality. The little one had previously taken no interest in a small plate of crackers and cheese but when her big brother placed
The first time I met Tim I knew something was different about him. He was only 16 years old, but already he had a way of letting me know I needed to watch my back. He did this without words. It was the way he looked at me--at the other guys in the community. It was the stories we’d hear of things he had done and the ways he had caused harm. By all accounts, Tim is someone you should avoid. His track record would imply that he is not safe. He is one of many people in our society that so easily get discarded so we can live more comfortably knowing he is no threat to us. I have heard it suggested that Christianity is a “feel good” religion. I have heard it said about Celtic Christianity t
I left the onion in the refrigerator thinking that I would use it later to cook something delicious. What a surprise. Impatient to move on with its own life's plan it had morphed into something beautiful but useless for cooking. There must be a blog in this somewhere. So, it sits on the kitchen counter and speaks to me. It speaks to me of how precious life is. And how demanding life is. I am reminded of hiking in the mountains, seeing a young tree growing in the crack of a huge rock. An improbable place to live. Years ago (when there was no hope for survival from a lung cancer diagnosis), I heard anger in the voice of a patient’s wife: “I have tried to keep this man alive! I even patted the
