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
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
He turned a pirouette
Body followed sacrament Meant to collapse inward, A surrendered Read More
He is a living God, so we don’t need your laws of nutrition and insurance: Whatever we consume with a prayerful heart, we get what we need Read More
This is the day that completes you
With the first rays of the mighty eye
Playfully pulling you to play your prelude
Written in the last sunset’s sky Read More
It began as a trickle.
A revelation. Words were dripping.
My soul thawed and I knew God.
Beheld wondrous things of the law,
I knelt in awe. Read More
Annie Proulx asks, “For who has not heard music at the end of the day, [the most impressionable time] the quarter-light infused by somber harmonies that say everything that has ever been said?”
Yet even after glimpsing –and thereby eternally believing– this revelation, I still chase the black dragon of writing; believing in even stronger than moments that cannot be expressed in words, the ones that only can. There is a profound statement that mystifies the ages in the opening to John’s gospel, and meditating on ‘Christ as God’s word’ carries me to these far reaches of human belief: that not only can we define the indefinable, but it is our duty as writers to pursue the journey. Read More
I am perplexed by how much my fellow people are letting the culture of our times pervade their thoughts and ways of life. Currently it is much in vogue to accept people for “who they are,” manifested (certainly in Colorado, where I live) as making marijuana legal and highly visible; to market the mass consumption of commercial drones; to let people choose to end their own lives by doctor-allocated poison, as long as two physicians sign off that they are indeed helpless cases. We are creating a culture of acquiescing to base desires because we have been traumatized by the fear of the other side that wants to destroy all personal freedom. But is it wise to fashion a world based on antithesis to what we hate or do not want, akin to a wild teenager doing that which his parents told him not to do for the sole reason of defying authority? I’m afraid that will not lead us to a more balanced spiritual existence — and thus a happier one — but will just give us loads of self-diagnosed “good people.” Read More
Deliverance. I was at a loss about what to write since it feels that these days the womb baby takes up all the space and pushes out anything he/she deems superfluous. But fortunately God squeezed in one word for us to digest like our trusty folic acid. Apt for us both, as my post from Pentecost Sunday, A Conversion, describes the pivotal hour of life in this body in which I was delivered from evil; and the baby will be, any day now, delivered into this world. Read More
It wasn’t the cult that made me do these things. I am as unaffiliated as the man stranded on the island who built a swing. We all thought he was out of his wits –or maybe that’s all that was left—but here we are all on the same universal pendulum and no one ever says a damn thing about how fuckin crazy we all are not to jump off. Minds and cells all jostled from a lifetime of the up-and-down, back-and-forth, yet we still convince ourselves we know what is best. Go down swinging, that’s how we like it. What do I care about a guy who got it right in his dizzied brain? How was I supposed to know that jumping is the only way off this nightmarish ride?