writing when inspired about the often overlooked
In silence, Lord, I feel now the curious blend of grief and gladness in me over the endings that the ticking and the twirling of things brings. (Ted Loder, “I Teeter on the Brink of Endings” – Guerrillas of Grace, Page 83.) These lines from Ted Loder’s poem capture my pensive mood today. It’s Ronnie’s…
written August 4, 2011 I think I write about silence and solitude so much, not because I am “good” at it, but because it does not come easily to me. My random mind has trouble settling down. I am learning more and more why it’s called a discipline! Dear God, Settling into my old purple…
Today, August 28, 2011, I remember Brenda Jane in my own quiet way, releasing a green balloon into the air on the bluff above Lake Michigan at Ft. Sheridan beach. She would be 51 years old today. A tiny premie, she lived only 7 hours. I never knew her. I have no grave to visit…
Today I read a post by Caleb Wilde a 6th generation funeral director and friend of my son, Todd. I was struck by the truth of his post and I especially like his ending. Thank you Caleb Probably one of the more insensitive things you can say to the bereaved at a funeral is, “I…
Bye Cya August 5, 2008 it hit me . . . three years ago, this day was the last time I saw my brother. I had asked him to come to Illinois. Mom had been sick that summer; we almost lost her. She was out of the hospital, but still not well enough for me…
Linking with Diedra Riggs and The Sunday Community Psalm 18:2 Â You , oh Lord are my rock. my fortress, my deliverer, my God, my strength in whom I will trust. The ground surrounding the rock changes . . . muddy, soft in rain . . . firm in sunshine . . . gives away in…
March 2008 I am in a small group and we are to ponder our answer to Jesus’ question, “What do you really want from me?” I found something I wrote back in February and it captured the essence of what I want right now – God, I need to hear from You . . . sense…
The setting: My son and his wife live in an OLD stone farm house. Â In the back yard is an old root cellar, a weird focal point to the back yard. The kids love to climb over it. (for the grandmas reading this, the door is secure!) Tonight it’s back yard Graduation Party for…
Lord, as our lives dip, turn, rise, flip, and roll Help us to remember . . . You have the controls of our lives. There is no problem with Your skill as an operator. Our response is to simply rest in this confidence as we move through the days . . . weeks . ….
 ( I wrote this last summer, June, 24, 2010) Today I see them . . .     the baby ducks. I look for them every year, It’s already June And I have been wondering where they are. Maybe it’s been too cold – Too. . . . . something? And I am surprised by how …