The Binding, Burgeoning, Blossoming, Beautiful Word
For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. Romans 15:4
The same weed I fight in my garden blooms like morning glories along the dry country roads I run. Bindweed is almost impossible to . . .
Sweet Rocket Bug Lights
There's a good sermon in eating an ice cream drumstick while driving on country roads in search of sweet rocket wildflowers. Wild purple sweet rocket blooms here in Kansas along creek beds and tucked in the shade of trees. It spreads where it's happy and can blanket whole creek beds or cottage gardens. You can smell the deep . . .
Posted in: kansasspiritualwildflowers
Anna Hosanna Says Rejoice
Anna Hosanna the little wren wakes up singing praises and goes to sleep singing praises. Anna moved into the ornamental birdhouse outside my bedroom window. She sings praises from her rooftop and from the fence below. Overlooking the cottage garden of iris and peony, she sings. In the rain, she sings.
She comes closer and . . .
Fragile
I want to talk about sweet Chip, my dog and my good friend. There's a scene in the movie A Christmas Story where the dad receives a big crate with a lamp in the shape of a lady's leg as a prize. The crate with the leg lamp is marked Fragile.
Chip was my prize for three Christmases. We drove to Las Vegas just a few . . .
Posted in: spiritual
Picking Mulberries
They couldn't bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head. Then they lowered the man on his mat, right down in front of Jesus. Mark 2:4
Imagine Jesus on a book tour. Scheduled to appear at your local library. I can imagine my nervous anticipation of what he . . .
Posted in: friendshipkansasspiritual
Memorial Gardens
Notes from Cemeteries
I know I've passed one of life's markers now that I want to visit cemeteries. I remember being baffled by my grandparents' desire to go to the cemetery on Memorial Day. It seemed so morbid and a distraction from good barbecue. Now I like to spend part of my lunch breaks and Saturday afternoons exploring them.
I . . .
Training
Notes on running a long race
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on . . .
