Joy to the Joy

posted in: Faith, Nature, Uncategorized | 0

The lady across the street from my childhood home owned an organ. Her name was Joan. We must have been at Joan’s house for a Christmas party because I vaguely recall many people gathering around as she sat on a little bench. Then, her feet pressed long boards which made sounds like a cow.

Joy to the World, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king!

Joan’s organ wheezed while everyone sang.

Ever since, Joy to the World has stirred up odd associations: Pants suits and root beer. Feet and cows bellowing. Adults you never heard sing, singing…read more

The Watermelons of October

posted in: Faith, Parenthood | 0

In early September, one of my sons returned home from school one day with multiple plastic grocery stacks stuffed with dirt-covered vegetables, gourds, potatoes, and onions. His science class spent a day at a working farm where they were shuttled from field to field and told to gather what they could. He went overboard on the onions and could have harvested a few more of the fragrant, gorgeous peppers. We were proud of his haul and he was, too. It was a contribution to the wellness of our family as a whole. We’ve enjoyed the bounty.

But one of the gourds he brought home perplexed everyone…read more

Life, Death, And All The Trimmings

posted in: Nature | 0

When a curled, dried leaf hits the street, it doesn’t stay. Wind scrapes it to the wall of a gutter where it gets matted by rain runoff. It’s not going anywhere, but it’s not alone. All its partners on the tree above are shed, too, then raked up together and stuffed into black plastic bags. The time spend sewn to a tree where the stem meets the branch is a flash compared to the harvested, dark state. Separation is always painful.

The first time I heard the theory plants feel pain, I was a child. It was a ludicrous, laughable idea…read more

It’s Lovely In Cyrenaica this Time of Year

posted in: Faith | 0

My late great-grandmother presented a copy of The Children’s Living Bible to me on Christmas 1979. I don’t especially recall Christmas 1979, so I’m grateful for her handwritten inscription on the title page. I miss her so much. She had beautiful, lilting handwriting that leans forward enough the strokes look like a flock of blue birds about to take flight.

“Read and cherish Romans 10: 8-9” the birds sing… read more

Time Wears Stilettos

posted in: Faith | 0

One of the best things about Steel Magnolias is every other line is quotable. Lately, I’ve been dwelling on this line, delivered by sweetly sassy Truvy:

“Honey, time marches on and eventually you realize it is marchin’ across your face.”

Last night, I was staring at myself in the mirror. I have a deep line next to my left eyebrow that betrays inherent skeptimism and questioning nature. I must be skeptical and confused a lot because when time stomps across my face, it trips a little before making a recovery. Time looks around sheepishly to see if anyone noticed. Time should have been paying attention, but Time was texting Memory the grocery list. Again… read more