They take the stage. The story about injustice, redemption, and restoration. Grace. A changed life. They tell the story through dance. I marvel at the ease with which the movements flow. These children I bore. Expression through dance. Restoration. We all long for. To be made whole. Justice. Wars begin over injustice. Conflict. Trouble. It takes one to start revival. Prayer. I Thessolonians Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks ... View Post
Keep On, Keeping On
The words on the pole begin to fade. The area around the site; bare. The remnant of something. Unknown to passers by. A cross. 3 flags. A memorial, one thinks. Each drive along that route, I cry out to the Father. I ask for mercy in this process. I beg for the pain to be softened. I long to know why. Yet I don't remain there. There is still purpose and work left to do here. The tension of how to move on and remember, pull. A desire to hide from all that is moving on; strong. Effort made each day to surrender my ... View Post
Searching, Seeking
As I mourn one. An extra is at my table. One who ponders the questions in the night. Comes to the barn in the wee hours. Wrestling with the heaviness of life. Searching. So many come. Needing. They seek the solace and rhythm of the barn. Something deep and rich. It is truth they seek. Elijah sought truth. His life on this earth plagued with the inconsistencies he saw. You say what you claim to be, but act as if you knew not. Wise beyond his years. Destined not for this world. It is a small solace to know he has all the answers he ... View Post
I Said Yes, When Every Ounce Of Me Wanted To Shout, “No!”
I choke back the real answer I want to give. I hold my emotions in reserve. Every ounce of me wants to shout, "No!" She wants to go to the drive in with her friends. She needs money. Another night spins in my head. I didn't want him to go. I asked him not to go. I give her the money. I make popcorn and put it in a bag. I want her to be small again. I want to bathe them all and read stories while they all fight for a space on my lap. I want to pray and hear their gratefulness for the day. And then I want to ... View Post
When The Missing Rises Up To Meet Me
The missing rises up to meet me. I drive past the site. The forever slams my soul hard. I try to work through the pain. Shaking my head, I continue to drive. My heart cries out to God. I beg for him to lift the hurt. I want to hear Elijah's voice and cook him a meal. I am tired of his bed being empty. Never to return. I'm tired of hurting and aching; of longing. I say his name over and over. Elijah, Elijah, Elijah. There is something soothing about saying his name. We chose his name. A prayer. A nudging from ... View Post
Fencing With My Farmer. . . The Poor Man
The grass is growing and fencing needs to be done. The farmer heads out. He's been to church, out to lunch and had a little down time reading. But now it's back at it. After awhile I call to check and see how he is. He's headed across the river. I tell him to wait, I'll go with him. I throw on my jeans and a t shirt, put on my boots and head out the door. The wind, gentle. The sun; warm. I meet up with him at the river crossing. He drives the tractor over. It's been years since we have worked like this together. I have ... View Post
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