A Summer Salad and #320-330

Oh, what a pleasure it is to pick vegetables from the garden and then bring them to the table to eat them. I suppose I am more excited than usual about the garden this year because the past two years we didn’t have one. The picture above is a salad I ate the...

Dodge and Burn

Dodge and Burn This week, I attended a class on how to use photoshop. During the class, the instructor used a phrase I hadn’t heard in years: “dodge and burn.” When he mentioned the term, it sounded vaguely familiar, and then– all of a sudden, I remembered where...

A Slice of Home

He’d drop it off on the shaded front porch, if we weren’t home. Later, we’d pick up the crinkly brown paper sack filled to the top with homegrown drops of sunshine: juicy, red tomatoes. I marveled at the generosity of the gift– a whole sack! To...

The First Circle

Years ago, in college I read a book The First Circle by Aeksandr Solzhenitsyn. Although fiction, the book is also auto-biographical, as the story is about a group of academics who were arrested and forced to work in a labor camp, but who were well fed and had better...

A Long Walk

It must have been a long walk. It started with hot, salty tears, poured out, drenching the ground, feeling forsaken by all in the world, but especially by God himself. Must have been a long walk, the longest walk a human could know, the walk from Gethsemane to...

Broken Bread

Over the past year and a half, God’s hand and revelation to me in my life has been difficult, wrenching and astonishing. I’ve been broken. But it’s because of the brokenness that God has been growing me and drawing me closer to him. I’ve lived...

Losing our Imaginations?

My fourth grader told me that much of the conversation around the lunch table has to do with video games. Really?? Is that ALL that 4th grade boys can talk about?  The conversation of a fourth grader really ought to be full of  fourth grade stuff, it ought to be...

The Skins We Live In

I cried in the doctor’s office today. I just couldn’t help myself. After seeing my son’s face under the UV lights and hearing about the threat of the spreading depigmentation, I cried. I didn’t want to, oh how I didn’t want to cry. My...

The Light from Shore

Thirty-four years. Hallways, rooms, walls, and carpet. Memories made. All have laughed and wept. In the quiet house, I hear the echoes of the past. The sounds of children growing, playing, learning, discovering. A family. Living. Living the battles of life. The voices...