• suspended animation

    by  • April 2, 2016 • 1 Comment

    I had every intention of using National Poetry Writing Month as an impetus to keep me writing regularly during April, and then I spent the day traveling yesterday and missed Day One. So, I will begin my quest on Day Two. suspended animation I’m sitting at a shared table late on a Saturday morning...

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    by  • March 28, 2016 • 2 Comments

    perspective the daffodils bow their heads in the early morning rain without explanation, on this day after resurrection. I am left to find resonance in both reverence of redemption and the weight of the water. the raindrops hang like tears on the window, or tiny jewels, depending on where I am. my coffee cup...

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    lenten journal: still

    by  • March 26, 2016 • 5 Comments

    Because I have now lived through the death of both of my parents, I understand more of how the disciples might have felt after Jesus’s death and burial. One of the hardest things has been to mark time without them. The first morning. The first month. The first year, and then the second. I...

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    lenten journal: blank

    by  • March 25, 2016 • 1 Comment

    I started a new train book on the way to work this morning: Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer by Peter Turchi. The book, as the title suggests, uses cartography as an extended metaphor for writing. As the train worked its way to New Haven this morning, Turchi was talking about the...

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    lenten journal: betrayal

    by  • March 24, 2016 • 5 Comments

    My earliest recollections of Communion–or the Lord’s Supper, as we most often called it in Baptist life–was the ritual beginning with the words, “On the night that Jesus was betrayed. . . .” Not on the night he was arrested, or the last night with his disciples, but the night he was betrayed. And...

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    lenten journal: comedy

    by  • March 23, 2016 • 2 Comments

    under the alleluias I once heard a comedian say the only way to get to the jokes that mattered was to push through the easy stuff, the sophomoric double entendres, the terrible puns, and get past the low-hanging fruit of the obvious and only then can you begin to discover great comedy. I don’t...

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    lenten journal: vulnerable

    by  • March 22, 2016 • 1 Comment

    Like most Americans, I suppose, I woke this morning to news of the attacks in Brussels. I’ve only seen a couple of pictures, but I could see it in my mind, as much as I can imagine such a thing. As the day went on, the public conversation went two ways. One was to...

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    lenten journal: small

    by  • March 21, 2016 • 1 Comment

    Anger has never come easy for me. My father grew up in an angry household, for reasons that would take several posts to explain. His take away from those days was to decide the family he helped to create would not live that way. He didn’t yell or lose his temper, and neither did...

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    lenten journal: hope

    by  • March 20, 2016 • 7 Comments

    I sang in church this morning. One of the folks I have met since moving to Guilford is a guy named Geoff and he and I sang “The Touch of the Master’s Hand” in worship. Most people know the song because of Wayne Watson, but I had the privilege of learning it while I...

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    lenten journal: holy week

    by  • March 19, 2016 • 0 Comments

    the road from here to resurrection is mapped in my mind (and my heart), from palms to parables, crowds to cross. I know the days, the steps, the words, the mileposts. my feet are covered with the dust from the feet of disciples who walked this way when the road was not so well...

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