spring sisters

outside in the weather, two girls are enjoying themselves and the tentative sun.  will it stay?  they don’t care because it’s here right now and they will be here, too. am i here with them? somehow there is a way that i can still live a parallel life with my children.  that they can be

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the lord is truly risen

the sun is risen; seek the son of man no more among the dead.  he has broken the bonds of death. alleluia. i will pray to jesus, the giver of life, whom god raised from the dead and who will raise us with his own power. this family makes its way to the beach on

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enjoying without owning

there are different birdsongs here. and there is almost too much beauty to take in. we drove down highways carved through hills of rock.  we stepped careful out onto smooth rocks lodged in the middle of stream fed rivers.  i reached the center of that clearest water, found a rock to sit and watch the

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thoughts from the driveway

the chalk is hitting with a hollow clink as kids draw butterflies a couple of feet away from my head.  maybe i should check my phone or i could bring out a book to read.  nope.  not today.  today i’m going to lay down on the driveway and feel the the coarse cement underneath my

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his face shone

the transfiguration is just confusing, this moment of high revelation and the unquiet response of peter.  a lot of snow fell yesterday.  the air blew white and slow, the world wound down until it stopped.  no school.  no work.  no cars on the road. it is jesus’ lot to be made less of than he

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don’t wait for me

snow was falling today like memories.  piling high into powdered hills that look substantial, but a kick would send them flying.  when a stranger stops and tells me that i should enjoy my children while they are young, it goes by so fast – i want to ask: “what does?  what goes by so fast?”

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judgement seat

comparison is the thief of joy. – theodore roosevelt yesterday i found myself avoiding things. i was supposed to be writing. i was supposed to be painting. instead i found myself out in the backyard standing by the kid’s swing set smoking a menthol cigarette. the snow, the smallest hill of white ice on each

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ice and stars

i tied ice skates on her feet and the muscles in my back started to cramp up as i hunched and pulled, wrapped around.  ice skating.  i watch two tall folks lunge forward, like fish out of water, step in off rhythm out to the rink.  a pierce of light from the past has me

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you are here

this weekend found thirty women in a lodge on a lake.  we built fires and god spoke about being fire and how with parts of creation, the only way to new life is through fire.  we sang and we prayed. we sang and we prayed. i forget that this isn’t normal and it’s not what

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