It’s Easter this weekend. This weekend I’m celebrating love. It began on the Thursday evening with a remembrance that true leadership requires bending low, in service to those we lead. Today, Youngest and I went to church to commemorate a crazy, unimaginable dying by a man who said he was God, someone who claimed to be dying for all of us. Either he was mad or he was serious. It doesn’t matter, not really … The fact was he did die, after great suffering. Those of us who celeb
I’m drunk with stars. My nephew, the artist and poet, is visiting with his family. We’ve been indulging in artsy-fartsy conversation, talk that makes me feel drunk with stars. Poetry is … A word picture, my nephew said. Or a frame of words with room for interpretation, I replied. We tossed the definitions back and forth: – an echo of the world – words that call to each reader’s memory – spaces between that resonate with the holes in each reader’s own story … In the end we agr
Have I prayed in vain? Wai’s funeral was yesterday, Ish’s more than a year ago now. Kwan is in a deep coma. There’s very little chance he’ll wake. No. Despite the fact that Wai and Ish died, that Kwan isn’t likely to wake up from his hospital bed, prayer helped. It comforted, it left a legacy… I first began to circling the park with my rosary beads because of eighteen year old Ish. I didn’t know Ish but her mother was part of my women’s prayer group. When she was diagnosed wi
http://www.etsy.com WE DIDN’T INVITE THEM I’ve heard them practicing in the park from my study. I’ve passed them on my walks. I’ve kept them at a safe arm’s length. What they do on their day off is their business. I let them be, them and their singing…
But now they’re in my driveway. “There some carolers asking if they can come in,” my daughter whispers nervously in my ear. I peer out at the 8 people gathered in our driveway, smiling uncertainly from under f
SILENCE! Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com Dani Batz’s photostream I’ve just returned from my 3rd retreat.
When I first started going, people kept asking me “Why?”The question was usually accompanied by a concerned expression or a caring touch. “What was happening with my life?” “What was getting too much for me to bear that I needed to check out? To re-arm and recuperate?” I had to re-assure everyone I was fine, I wasn’t re-treating from anything. It was more a call from