Dad built a beautiful house on the lake when we were young. He loved to fish, I didn't. But there were nights when I climbed into the boat with him and while he was fishing he would point to the constellations. "Look, there's the Big Dipper. See the Little Dipper next to it. That faint… Continue reading Star Gazing
It's before crack of dawn early and I sit on the deck watching stars twinkle. The air feels pregnant as it quietly waits to birth a new day. A lone spider silently spins. The distant howl of a coyote calls, and I wonder, Did I really mean what I said? Because now the middle one is… Continue reading Water Walking… is it worth the risk?
I'm pretty sure if my life's path was marked like a snail trail on a wet window it would look about the same. I've gone in circles, and camped out in places I should have left. I've crossed my own path countless times, and rarely taken the most direct route. From the looks of it I am as lost as a snail.
Even on her best days she doesn't remember my name, but she knows my familiar face. Her eyes light up with understanding when I tell her I'm her oldest granddaughter. She says, I'm a sweetheart. I smile and think, if she only knew. But today is not one of those days. I know from the minute… Continue reading Life with Lill…dementia lesson
”I’ve never seen her cry,” my sweet little friend said as she looked out of the window. I patted her hand because there were no comfort words, no make it all better words in the hospice parking lot. “I guess we all have our moments,” she whispered. The Spirit’s pull keeps me thinking. What’s really… Continue reading Moments
It was an ordinary Sunday morning in the Spring of 2012. I was moving through the commons area of our church when he flagged me down. “Get some paper and pen,” he said. No need to argue with him. He had that I’m-up-to-something twinkle in his eye. We sat and he wrote. Little did I… Continue reading A Recipe’s Story
It’s the second Sunday of Advent as I sit quietly waiting for the sun to slowly bring light to morning darkness. I think of him. The oldest son in Arkansas standing somewhere in the wet timber waiting. I remember one Thanksgiving when the kids were playing football in the yard. My cousin’s youngest came… Continue reading Advent’s waiting…