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Reading in the morning, I am distracted by the light that falls across the page, across the room, climbing down the wall as the sun rises. Somewhere, a neighbor’s rooster crows, as I carry my little boy toward the bathroom where he stands ...
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Riding the old yellow Cub Cadet, I mow long rectangles around the back fields. Out in the garden, between me and the road, my husband works with the kids, tying short, thick tomato plants to their stakes with long strips of cotton. From where I sit, rattling and...
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It started with a crocus or two. Delicate blossoms like bright purple tissue paper, twisted. Then, later, the daffodils bloomed. Just two, opening on a cold rainy morning that left them covered with ice, but they endured. Now dozens of yellow...
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The Season of Resurrection Slender green fingers point toward the windswept sky, where a battle rages between blue and cottony white. Daffodil heads, wrapped in linen brown nod graciously, bright yellow flags waiting to unfurl. ...
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The following is a work of fiction based on the story of Jesus eating at Simon the Pharisee’s house (Luke 7:36-50). It’s based on a sermon from awhile back and seemed somehow appropriate for Lent. He tended to every detail. ...
