my shoulders tense ready to deflect love, concern and affection. i would rather be a shrivel and hanging skin, alone and untouched. sometimes i don’t even know why this is the way i feel, i only know that i have to protect myself against love. an innocent question has all kinds of motives and i
last night i was watching the wire. if you’ve ever stopped by this site than you know that i’m typecasting myself. the strangest thing is happening as i’m watching this fourth season. it’s a mirror. the life lived out by young boys in the city is reflecting back my childhood, my secrets, my story. it’s
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
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
gratitude list ~ one thousand things ~ #411 – 418 saturday morning in detroit prayer far pink light on the frozen lake one room at a time new baby chasing the sun around the house the wideness of his mercy january tapped like a maple tree
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
spend some time in the leaves and less time online. pick up a rake. pick up a phone. pick up a pen. pick up a book. gather up the things that matter into a big pile and jump in.