• Posts Tagged ‘ritual’

    lenten journal: the peripheral vision of faith

    by  • February 25, 2012 • Uncategorized • 4 Comments

    One of the benefits of my style of organization is the joy of rediscovering things. Move a pile of stuff and find a book you haven’t seen in a long time. Such was my fortune a couple of days ago. We did some rearranging here at the house which set me to cleaning up...

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    lenten journal: thin skinned

    by  • March 22, 2011 • Uncategorized • 4 Comments

    It’s been almost a year since I stepped out of a professional kitchen to return to teaching. Though I still cook daily at home and for friends, I’m not doing quite the volume I once was. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed is in my hands. Because of the prep work – dicing...

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    advent journal: the night is far spent . . .

    by  • November 29, 2010 • Uncategorized • 1 Comment

    The night is far spent . . . Yes, there’s another half to that sentence, but it’s too early to write it down. We still have weeks of days growing shorter, of darkening afternoons, of lying down to sleep in the middle of all that is not yet. While the new year we mark...

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    lenten journal: rhymes and reasons

    by  • March 5, 2010 • Uncategorized • 1 Comment

    A friend of mine is taking a song writing class. I talked to her today, interrupting her homework, and she told me her assignment was to write a song full of clichés. The dictionary says a cliché is “a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost...

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    check yourself before you wreck yourself

    by  • January 6, 2010 • Uncategorized • 4 Comments

    Today was one of the first days in a long time that I had some morning traveling time: I had to drive to Cary, about twenty miles away, for an appointment with my eye doctor, which meant I got to drive home with my eyes dilated and NPR on the radio. I only stopped...

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    advent journal: nothing new

    by  • December 3, 2009 • Uncategorized • 1 Comment

    Four days on, my Advent mornings are beginning to find a pattern, a sort of sameness I hope will focus my mind and heart for the day to give me something to say when I come home. After all, as John Prine so beautifully put it, how the hell can a person go to...

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