Christine posted this wonderful picture a couple of days ago with an invitation to respond. Here’s where the picture took me. empty chair what isthe differencebetweenopen spaceand emptiness?vacancyand opportunity?barrennessand belief? in one ofmy favorite stories,Ian had a chairin the shapeof a handan open handa tender handGod’s handto hold him I drive byfurniture storesyard salessometimeshoping to…

On the same Saturday morning, while I was out running errands, I learned of two endings: the Weekly World News is ceasing publication and Annie Dillard is not going to write anymore. For those of you who may not frequent supermarkets, the Weekly World News is the tabloid of tabloids, leaving behind celebrity gossip for…

Every so often, when I sign my name,the person behind the counter says,“That’s quite a signature,”as though I’ve done nothing but scribble.“No one else can imitate it,”is always my answer,“that’s what makes it my signature.” My morning movements are as mucha signature as my recognizable scratch,my hands moving from musclememory to trim the strawberriesand stand…

I’m not in the habit of posting more than once a day, but I can’t keep today’s poem from The Writer’s Almanac to myself. The poet is Eleanor Lerman. She rocks. Starfish This is what life does. It lets you walk up to the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a stiff knee….

One of the things I love about the connections created by blooging is the chance to take part in, or at least listen in on, conversations I might otherwise miss. And, once again, it also means there is more to learn. One of the words I read a lot, in relation to conversations on the…

There’s always something new to learn. As many times as I’ve either heard or read the parable of The Good Samaritan and the story of Jesus’ visit with Mary and Martha, I’d never thought about the two being connected until Ginger mentioned it in her sermon last Sunday. Both are stories about people stopping along…

I’ve got more thoughts running through my head than I can get organized into anything coherent tonight and so I offer this wonderful poem I found today at The Writer’s Almanac. The poet is Lynn Powell. Acceptance Speech The radio’s replaying last night’s winnersand the gratitude of the glamorous,everyone thanking everybody for making everythingso possible,…

Back in the early nineties, the town of Waxahachie, Texas almost became famous for something other than the fact that my grandmother lives there. It was to have been the home of the Superconducting Super Collider, a fifty-four mile underground oval where super charged protons would be sent around in opposite directions and then collided…

I worked on the line at the restaurant for the first time last night, my previous days there having been spent proving my prowess as a prep cook. It was a good night to learn: busy enough to let me see most everything on the menu, slow enough to not put me “in the weeds,”…

My father-in-law is in the middle stages of Alzheimer’s disease. He and my mother-in-law left yesterday after an extended stay with us. ReubenLeah knew she was unloveduntil she held the boy,her firstborn,and she named him Reuben:“See, a son,” it means;a love carrier —“Because God has seenmy misery.”The Reuben I know is a twin,next to last…