The Gap

  The Gap   Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save,     nor his ear too dull to hear. Isaiah 59:1 (NIV)   In 1512, Michelangelo finished painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, now regarded as one of the world’s most famous art masterpieces....

Remember when the snow melted in February?

Dear Future Me, Do you remember that gray February day when they were all gone unexpectedly? Josh was at a week-long camp, Nat was in college, and Eli had a spontaneous sleepover at a friend’s house. You weren’t expecting to be alone. It just happened....

Evaluating Your Writing Space

Today, I consider my writing work space. I am struck by the fact that I have no “designated” space. At the beginning of the academic school year (my life is still organized by “academic school years”), I cleared off a desk in the back room,...

Steep Shoulders

Steep Shoulders   You are the moon, the white glow Bouncing off the wet pavement You are red streaks of light shimmering on the road Your heartbeat sets the rhythm Keeps pace with an electric night   I can dodge shadows with the receding sun Because you are...

How a Fraction of a Second Counts

In about six months, millions of folk on planet Earth will be tuned into the Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Millions will be engaged in watching this gathering of the world’s top-notch athletes who demonstrate incredible skill, strength, and...

Alive and Active

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. ~Hebrews 4:12   I love this verse! It reminds me of the power of...

Assignment: Reporter

My time as a reporter was as brief as a rookie reporter’s first article: it lasted only a summer, somewhere in the middle of my college years. I was actually considering changing my major to journalism, which is what led to the internship.  But there was one...

Writer? Who, Me?

  I remember when I first identified myself as a writer. Or rather, when someone else identified me as one. I was in 7th grade. My English teacher asked to speak to me after class. I made good grades. Usually never any trouble. The model student.  What could this...