“Blind as a bat,” people said of me as a child, whenever I confused someone walking for a dog or a horse. Glasses finally remedied that, but trouble started in my forties; the day my optometrist used the “B” word. Bifocals. The top worked well for distance; the bottom for …
“It’s time to get your faith dancing,” croons gospel singer Sandi Patty. I’m sure she means the good days, when you live up to what you say you believe, and know you’d die for the same. When you sit slow at Jesus’ feet, and stand up fast for what you …
We were made to weep, as well as to laugh. I cry less often than I once did. That bothers me sometimes. But just when I begin to wonder if my tear ducts have withered shut from underuse, a bird, with blithe abandon, takes aim for the sky reflected in …
Hope caves in, sometimes. Something goes amiss; sends us plunging. What separates faith in Christ from optimism, in times like that? Oh, that’s a bad ‘un, older gardeners said when we told them a mole was punching tunnels in our septic- mound-turned- rock- garden. Not much you can do about …
When we moved to our middle-aged bungalow a few years ago, we knew we’d have to make changes to its front—one day. The cement stairs and stoop (which could barely fit two at a time) led to a nondescript metal screen door. Behind that was a flat-paneled front door, with …
As I greeted daughter Amanda at the front door the other day, she pointed to something on the deck—a narrow strip of thickly-furred deer hide, a foot long, recently detached from its owner. She sighed. “Mom, are you bringing dead animals home again?” The family has never allowed me to …
“A person is a person, no matter how small!” Horton the elephant keeps insisting in Dr. Zeuss’s classic children’s book, Horton Hears a Who. Horton believes something others don’t: that a world full of people live on a miniscule speck he found. He believes that because he heard their mayor, …
It’s a messy world out there these days, with more reasons to be down than up. On top of that, winter has outstayed its welcome. Hope of spring is running low, and we’re running out of Pollyanna phrases to cheer ourselves. I’ve reserved a few statements of last resort, but …
Awhile ago, the Preacher mentioned a landmark he’d noticed on the highway between home and town. Had I noticed it, he wanted to know. “No. Where?” “Near the bridge.” I drive that highway often. “There’s no bridge on the highway to our place.” He looked at me funny. “What d’ya …
Our grandbeans, their parents and a few others joined us for supper last week. The children weren’t themselves. Bad colds had knocked our great Canadian jumping beans flatter than Mexican tortillas. One by one they left the table to curl up somewhere cozy. One chose a lap; another a couch, …
