a collection of paths

a vision. god gives us a vision of dry ground becoming a pool of water. then we try to make it so. but it’s not so simple, it is not so straightforward. i have to become the vision before the vision is a real for me or for anyone else. how are you? how is the

let me show you a beautiful thing

i lived in three houses as a girl. the very first one stays with me as the truest home.  ten years of growing up.  ten years of not knowing anything but 7702 patton street in detroit, michigan. i don’t know when it started but i would walk two blocks down to warren road alone with one

april showers

there’s this part in the bible.  i think it’s in the old testament somewhere.  it’s god talking to his people.  he says that when they get to the promise land, when they get everything they want – even more than they ever knew they’d possess, that they shouldn’t forget about god or he’d take it

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all to reveal a secret we can’t hide

  during communal prayer at church, anyone can say anything.  i’ve heard mothers weep for children and homeless men go off on political rants. last sunday i had a prayer in my throat. but i think and rethink.  i wonder how i’ll say it.  i’m always writing my words. finally i pray. and as soon,

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how sweet the sound

he placed his spread hand over his heart and told us that this was a sincere gesture. and he was right.  i do that.  if i hear news that touches deep, my fingers fly up and lay down flat, a shield for my heart as it takes in the new information. “this is a sincere

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sincere and pretend

and then it was december 25th. as soon as we find out we are pregnant, we put the tv out on the curb.  wanting to have integrity about raising a child without one, we thought we should get rid of it before they even arrive. but that year christmas shows up like a thief.  we

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herding butterflies

if my life were dusted for prints what would the evidence point to? where would you find me most of the time? there would be a lot of prints on the computer, on my iphone. you would find my steering wheel covered as i head here or there. my pots and pans would be heavy

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spring weddings

flowers splay and the air coming through my daughter’s bedroom window is painted pink with magnolia blossoms. out there spring has roared. how does quiet make such a noise on the landscape? i walk with children under the dogwood branches and the holy spirit is like that.  he comes without sound and when he leaves

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intentional love

“are you willing to give up your other passions so that people can hear about jesus?” well wouldn’t you know it.  i thought there for a while that there was no further to go. i knew that when i bowed my head that one morning in our kitchen and prayed, “god, do whatever you want

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