pilgrim . poet . ponderer of all things .
Hi Friends! Today I am over at Karissa Knox Sorrell’s blog with a guest post, kicking off her “Where I found God” series. Go check it out, and subscribe to her updates so you can read the rest of the series. *** I didn’t find him where they said he’d be. I didn’t find him …
I’m just one small part in an unfolding story. I don’t know how it’s going to end (I’m not even sure how how it started). Right now I’m quite content spinning my little spiderwebs here in the corner, remaking my home day-by-day, in a location that seems appropriate. Regarding faith and doubt and God and …
If I squint my eyes closed tightly, and push my dry palms into the sockets, I can see the stars colliding and far-off galaxies expanding. I can see the universe in the darkness and the silence. Try it, you’ll see. Pin pricks of light overlaid with spinning geometric patterns and psychedelic circles and hazy, globuolus …
Nothing like a good guano cleaning session to put things in perspective. Our chooks leave quite a mess in the back yard and around the back door. I ignored it for so long that I stopped noticing it. But today I looked at the shit and said “it’s time”. I scooped, swept, sprayed and scrubbed …
I took my love and I took it down I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills, when a landslide brought me down. The best lyrics are ones that can be universally applied. Ambiguous enough that each individual can take them and shape them into meaning …
***I’m linking this post up to a conversation centering around ‘REST ‘, over at Esther Emery’s blog space ‘Church in the Canyon’.*** I’ve been to church three times this year. I kept telling myself that I’d get back into the swing of things soon, that I was merely in a period of upheaval, trying to …
I am about six years old, maybe younger. I am at the house of the girl a few doors down. The house that always smells of dampness and cigarette smoke; the girl with the Rainbow Brite and Cabbage Patch dolls, the silent older brother, the mother with a perm-slash-mullet, and the father who always …
My new blogging buddy Karissa tagged me in a blog-hop about my writing process. Karissa writes some wonderful things over at her blog, about faith, her conversion to Eastern Orthodoxy (so very interesting for me… having grown up in the pentecostal church, and brainwashed into believing other denom’s weren’t really ‘christian’), her childhood growing up …
There’s no escaping a divine appointment. It’s at the dusty crossroads, with a stone in your shoe and the sun in your eyes. You feel it in the limping and the blindness. It’s in the heavy bag, with it’s unrelenting pressure on your brittle bones. You hear it in the call of the carrion, arching …
The thoughts in this post have been shuffling around in my heart and on my computer screen for at least a month, but the timing hasn’t been right, until now. A couple of days ago I stumbled across Alissa Writes Words, who is hosting a link-up on the theme of “What I want you …
