Photography by Peter Holme
Threshold. What it takes, the thunderous energy, impossible vitality, to get to a state of relaxation, a feeling that I have adequate energy and vitality… “You need a sail,” suggests Joshua when I tell him it feels like Tom Hanks in Cast Away trying with all his might to get beyond the surf and become un-lost. Sometimes it seems not worth the effort, the expenditure far greater than the reward.
I drove back home alone with the girls after a weekend trip to Denver to see my mom. Heading south, the blessing of a special on Paraguayan guitarist Augustine Barrios filled Read More
A monsoon summer day, I weep over my past choices and what will come, and watch a film about Virginia Woolf. When her husband asks her of her novel by which she is consumed, “Why must someone die?”
“So that all else can value life more. It’s called contrast, Leonard.” She twitches. Read More
I was inspired while reading the chapter on motherhood, and apparently the baby in the womb was too, for after fifteen days past her estimated due date — as I tried intense mountain hiking, bumpy 4-wheel-driving over Engineer Pass, dancing my pregnant booty off to saloon ragtime, cooking with Himalayan chili peppers, an all-night full-moon vigil Read More
Behold! upward surge through the diadem
Sun lifts the people, its prayer for all of them:
‘This day will be a glimpse of Holy Spirit,
Some will kneel adoring, some will fear it.
Yet all who rise be taken up in the Word,
Though evil built a world and deterred
Creaturehood from knowing its Womb,
The love generated by Bride and Groom; Read More
‘Fulfillment’ by Adam Scott Miller
The pain starts at night and I see myself holding you, your father looking into your eyes and finding a part of himself he had been missing. By the bright morning and cruel red-winged blackbird song though, there is no pain; your crib remains filled only with blankets townspeople and your grandmothers have knitted for you.
In the warm pool in the backyard under the canopy of the aspen grove, I Read More
Photography by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.
We like miracles because they are now,
Not because they are from God.
We use God’s love because it serves us well,
Forgetting that without it, we would be dead.
We watch our loved ones sleep
And pray to God they do his will
And then grow afraid of his will.
There lacks congruence in what we Read More
Holding my daughter
I read to you, my Baby In The Womb, your first book. It was Annie Dillard’s Holy the Firm. You may say I have great expectations for you, but really hardly less than the Lord your Father’s for you, Little One. You will learn this early on — and perhaps you already know (but most of us forget amidst the flashes and specks of this disco-ball world) — that God is perfect and so must be his Word. Therefore, the individual letters of the alphabet, or characters, are inherently essential and truth-giving: Read More
As a mother and child
Reach for one another’s embrace,
So it is all life long,
My God and my soul. Read More
Mixed media drawing by Carne Griffiths
The exhaustion cuts, shards-of-broken-mirror style, contusions in the psyche realizing there have been twenty-eight jobs in fourteen years since I started my first at age fifteen. (To Joshua’s twenty-three since sixteen.) My mind experiences it most acutely, always trying so hard just to pay rent and maybe eat something, and of course the incessant criticism that chides, “And you’re glorifying God, how exactly?” Then the body manifests the fatigue, and at last the spirit gives in. And I’m not even counting the nights at Ralph’s in Costa Mesa where he would take glamour shots for eighty bucks, or making aspen bar stools and scattering the wood shavings in the forest, or dealing Texas Hold’em Read More
Sunday morning we lingered in bed tucked away from the cold reality of our uninsulated room, as the rain came down and the aspen turned outside. In each stint of wakefulness God said that we are now more spirit than flesh. There is no reason to have reservations about conducting the choir or any other work the spirit will lead my hands to perform. My meditations, antiphonal. You will know me. Read More