One of the main characters in Wendell Berry’s novel, Jayber Crow, is the river itself, which moves through the story like Jayber does, picking things up as it goes, sometimes setting them down again. The river is always changing---sometimes fat and angry, “as if the mountains had melted and were flowing to the sea.” In … Continue reading Everywhere the River Goes
Mavon’s dad knew he was dying. He didn’t want to leave them here on the farm—Mavon, her brother, and mother, but he was ready to be with Jesus, and he reminded them from his deathbed: “We’ll just be separated for a short time, and soon, we’ll be together again.” There was something else— “He told … Continue reading A Light in the Valley
This article was written for and published on The Christian Manifesto blog. “What do you want to do?” people wanted to know as soon as I finished high school. It was a problem, because I was already doing what I wanted to do. I was writing. I was teaching in my local church. I was using my … Continue reading Quiet, Little, & Long
Here is something I didn't expect when I began coaching writers--- I never thought I'd travel so far. It's a cliche to say that reading lets you travel the world, but when you rally a group of writers around a table, you're really in for an expedition. Writers write stories, and stories need people inside … Continue reading Circumnavigators
I met Darlene at the café on the first floor of the doctor’s building. And before I met her, I heard her ordering at the counter. The cashier had asked how she was doing, and she had answered with: Not wonderful. She had an elbow propped on the counter and her gray head in her … Continue reading Coffee and a Breakfast Wrap
I was surprised to meet Larry and Betty on my run yesterday, walking with their sticks down into the trees on Edgewood Road. Last winter, they hired me to fetch their mail and water their houseplants while they flew with the geese southward. Mrs. Betty is a gardener who does her best work in springtime, … Continue reading Bunnies & Birds
A True Story from Home I remember Frank as an old man, always kneeling in some corner to measure or drill, always doing it quietly with trembly hands. I remember staring at the nub where I’d heard he’d lost a finger to a chop saw, and wondering if it was still lying in his shop … Continue reading The Man Who Built the Lord’s House
I was out for a walk yesterday, brown leaves hurrying across the street, when I met my neighbor Mrs. Brenda. Before she asked it, I knew her question: "How's your book?" she called over the whir of a leaf blower. She's an author herself, and when I told her I was breaking ground on a … Continue reading Upon A Year Inside the Conservatory
bethanyjlincks.com 