How to live with the adjective inconsequential? That’s the way John Berger posed the question as I sat with his book a couple of days ago in the coffee shop waiting for time to start my after school job. He was talking about the role of the artist and writer in the face of the…
Over the past few weeks I have been editing a book manuscript for someone I don’t know. When I grade student essays, I know whose paper is in front of me, which colors how I both read and comment, but this time I am not being asked to teach, only edit. The hardest part, in…
I do wonder what was left out of the story.Jesus would walk up andsay, “Come follow me”and people just walkedoff from fishing boatsand families to catchpeople, be puzzled byparables, and remaingainfully unemployed. Part of me is curiousabout what was notworth remembering.Most of me marvelsat their unflinchingfaith, which feels farfrom familiar, forI have promises to keep.Go…
A couple of weeks ago, I arrived early for my shift at the computer store, so I got a coffee at the Barnes and Noble next door and sat down at a table to read a little of my John Berger book. The chapter I opened to started: It begins like this . . ….
Today is Steve Earle’s birthday. I’ve been listening to his songs all day, which is not so different from many other days, just more purposed. I love both his music and his story: he is a living testament to hope and redemption. One of my favorite tunes is “Some Dreams,” which was used as the…
if I had a nickel for every songwritten about how hard life isout on the road singing I’d have enough to buy the record and sing along with the self-indulgenceand understand how the beat of life(kick-drum-karma?) molds a melody out of misery in search of a sing-a-long to the click track of daily existence or…
On Tuesday, December 27, 2005, I began writing this blog with these words: I’ve been staring at the “posting” screen for several days now trying to figure out how to join the world of food bloggers. Since I’m writing from a Mac and I don’t know much about HTML, I’m still not sure about adding…
fifty six christmases and it matters more than ever that Christ is born againin the carols round the treein the sharing of mealsin the gift-wrapped bits of lovein the quiet streets of the cityin the empty chair at the tablein the ache of growingand knowing too muchin the memories that hangon the tree and in…
we have several mangers on our mantle made of materials from ‘round the worldeach a collection of the usual suspectsalong with a contingent of livestock but there’s no food the magi made the effort to bringincense and offerings, but not onecovered dish made the journeythe shepherds too were empty handed on his way out Jesus…
here’s how love comes to town on the back of a donkeyin the womb of a teenagerto a sleepy little townwithout a decent hotel on the smile of a friendin the heart of a strangerwho shares your griefand makes room for it on the whisper of hopein the ear of the darknesscalling out our namesas…