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(The field of soybeans coming in across the street from our house.) Late, I arrived at a recent Pastoral Development Day on the tail-end of opening worship. I slipped quietly into a single stuffed chair down low in the back of the room, curling my legs and feet...
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She never wore red, although it was her favorite color. But when she died, her coffin was draped with red roses, soft as velvet. And so in the end, dressed in a soft pink housecoat, she wore red and I stood over her casket in black with a red leather purse...
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All of the things of fall are as beautiful in their dying as they were in their birth, as if it were a farewell party, a last hurrah, a riotous wake. May I also be beautiful in my surrender, fading from green to brilliant orange or red, and may the moment of my...
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Flowers help, cut or wild blooms of vibrant hue, also time rolled out in long stretches like bolts of cloth. Air is essential, as well as stories that name in some way the sharp corners of your pain. You will want to lay down on the floor, to feel something solid...
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I’m sitting on the couch when it comes, cycling through my usual websites with a growing sense of dread. I feel frozen, unable to move on to something else even though I know I need to. A wave of heat washes over my body, rising up my back, my neck,...
