Storm

Art installation by Angela Glajcar

I black out in Laos w/ the Canadians and awake the next day in some tall grass next to the river w/ Amaya beside me. I can tell she’s upset and my state of mind is so twisted from the night before that I am emotionally numb. She goes right into it and tells me that she was going to leave me in the middle of the night, just get up and walk away and keep going, but Christ told her to stay and she obeyed. At this point in my life I am struggling so much w/ faith and it almost seems to my demented alcohol-soaked brain that she is using Christ to torment me, Read More

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Beloved


I’m a ragdoll, carried by my God.

I hear Jesus speak in a language I do not know.

He takes my limp hand in his, looks at my thumbnail and addresses the atoms by name.

I understand.

They are neither male nor female,

Like God or colors, Read More

Paths, Pasts & Politics (and one more “P”)

Sunset on Lake Michigan from the back porch. Photography by Amaya Engleking

The past couple weeks after returning from a relaxing vacation on Lake Michigan (yes, actually relaxing, even with the baby and three year-old and cramming as many in-laws into a one-bathroom beach house as possible) have been dynamic.

Something I’ll mention even though it occurred in June but has widened the chasm I feel between myself and the institutionalized church: Read More

Mountain 

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

Our Sins

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

Black Dragon

bow2

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