The kingdom of heaven is as near as the hand at the end of your arm. So turn the dough, stitch the wound, change the sheets, play the notes, stack the wood, sow the seeds and straighten the rocks along the wilderness road.
At Hand
The kingdom of heaven is as near as the hand at the end of your arm. So turn the dough, stitch the wound, change the sheets, play the notes, stack the wood, sow the seeds and straighten the rocks along the wilderness road.
A True Story from Home There it was, lying in a black case on the quilt like a closed casket. โWell, open it,โ she said quietly. I unhitched the clasps and cracked it open to see a dark violin lying in green velvet. It was coated in dust and rosin, its strings were frayed, and … Continue reading The Butcher’s Violin
I don't know if my great-great Grandma Howard was a round woman, or if she was as twiglike as my great-grandma Wanda, or if she had my grandma Karenโs smile, or my dadโs love of German chocolate cake. I only know what Dad remembers, and that is her cinnamon rolls. They were doughy to their … Continue reading It’s Recipes We Remember
Mavonโs dad knew he was dying. He didnโt want to leave them here on the farmโMavon, her brother, and mother, but he was ready to be with Jesus, and he reminded them from his deathbed:ย โWeโll just be separated for a short time, and soon, weโll be together again.โ There was something elseโ โHe told … Continue reading A Light in the Valley
For Papa Jay on his 88th Birthday, Labor Day 2023 You told me โEight thirty or so,โ but of course, you meant eight, And I knew youโd been up a long time before then Because I ran by at dawn And saw the old hurricane lamp was on in the kitchen And the storm doors … Continue reading Eight Thirty or So
This article was written for and published on The Christian Manifesto blog. โWhat do you want to do?โ 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
I was planting potatoes one day in early spring when what looked like two B-25 Mitchell bombers rumbled over the trees. I pulled my hands out of the dirt to watch history fly by and remembered there was an air show in St. Louis that weekend. I also remembered reading about the war gardens โ … Continue reading Victory Garden
May you wake to the sun that wakes the bees in their boxes and by which you can see your work and spot the queen laying her eggs in golden wombs of light. May you hear the hum of all twenty-nine colonies and may it harmonize with the song of the robins and the breeze … Continue reading For the Beekeeper
One Sunday morning last summer, I came around the corner to the coffee pot to find Sammy and Mr. Bill looking befuddled. When Sam saw me, she said the words squash bugs, and at once, I understood. Any gardener in July would. โMy zucchini plants were beautiful,โ she said, โand just like that--- gone.โ โI … Continue reading The Mortification of Squash Bugs
The pond shrinks this time of year, when at high noon, the sun brings all the water scraping away from the muddy banks and leaves them to crack under the sun. Papa Jay uses the drought season to find the holes where the pond leaks, and he has done so for many years. A leak … Continue reading But the Sea is Not Full