Invite Someone Home

When did the lovely art of hospitality start to leave us? It dangles by a fraying thread, it seems. Even among Christ-followers, mandated to share both home and food, the hardened shears of too-much-business, and too-little-love have almost snipped it from among us. The Preacher and I recently accepted an …

Making Peace With the Rain

In our slice of the prairies, we`ve seen the sun so seldom this spring I’ve decided not to waste it. So I’m writing outside this sunny morning, perched on an old willow chair in my favourite part of our backyard. Birdsong surrounds me, and the wind whispers through this grove …

Time for a New Bible, Perhaps?

My dearest book, my favourite gift from my sister Beverly, is bedraggled and weary. God’s lively Word, encased in tattered cardboard, is coming unhinged.  Like me, some days. In case you’ve ever wondered, the Bible is the backbone behind these weekly columns. God uses it to help keep my Sunny …

Beyond the Swimsuit Issue

We took to the water recently, the Preacher and I. Bodies filled the indoor pool, sporting a colorful array of swimsuits, in varying coverages. We wore boring, conservative styles, befitting our weathered frames. A few decades ago, we looked different. I shrieked the first time I saw the Preacher in …

Plant Your Seeds Well

The Preacher and I have just returned to Hope House after a two week road-trip, sandwiching visits to family and friends between speaking engagements. Things changed in our absence. The forest of maples in our side yard had no foliage when we left. They’ve birthed both leaves and seed-clusters since. …

What Do You Think You Have?

I have phantom fuzz. “You have WHAT?” said the Preacher, when he walked into the bedroom and found me inspecting my left foot. “Phantom fuzz.” Toe jam. You know. Dead skin, sock fluff, sand, dirt. All mixed up with accumulated skin oils and bacteria.  A piece or collection of pieces …

What About That Dead Robin?

Mothers do many things. Grandmothers, too.  One of the hardest is explaining death to those who have barely begun to live. “Nana, wanna come and see a dead robin?” Benjamin asked. “Sure, I’ll come.” “Wobbin can’t fwy,” said Dinah Jane. “It’s in the GARBAGE!” said Tabatha. Their mother and I …

How Long Did it Take God…?

The Preacher and I are filthy rich in our friends. One of them, for love alone, spent ten long days at Hope House recently, helping us develop our cement block basement. His quiet example of workmanship and generosity made a deep impression on our almost-five-year-old grandson. Benjamin spent several afternoons …