Once upon a porch

Anything can happen on a porch. Connection. Refreshment. Reflection. Rejection, sometimes. Even buying and selling. As a child in the sixties, I had the chore of sweeping our small front porch clear of its weekly accumulation of dirt and spiders. Rarely do I remember anyone but company using that porch …

No social distancing required in the most important relationship of all

COVID-19, with all its adjustments, terrors and sorrows will pass in time. Remember how difficult things were at the start of the pandemic panic, when everyone learned we must keep our distance from anyone not in our own household? Early in 2020, after the Preacher and I moved nearby them, …

Jesus took our punishment – but sin’s consequences are our own

“Nana,” my youngest grandbean started, as he, his sister and I sat enjoying lunch together. He followed that with a question that stopped my fork mid-air. My mind flew back to the day before, to a matter I thought finished. But clearly, the little chap had a cog blocking one …

Collecting hearts, tending hearts

I sometimes use a heavy clay pot as a doorstop. A pot full of hearts. “Hey, Nana, here’s another one!” The grandbeans offer their outstretched hands, fingers curled around the latest treasure. A heart of stone.  Another one for our collection. We’ve found them on walks, the children and I, …

The truth about Nana’s fake news

I spouted a mouthful of fake news at lunch the other day. To the grandchildren, no less. With a federal election pending, it seemed natural that the discussion around our table turned to politics. “Nana,” asked one of the children asked, “does God discipline bad kings?” “Well,” I said, “When …

Grandparents, faith and laughter

“The reason grandchildren get along so well with their grandparents,” I heard someone say, tongue firmly planted in cheek, “is that they have a common enemy.” Our six live about an hour from us. Fortunately, on (almost) all things, the Preacher and I and their parents agree. We feel blessed …

Love notes that matter

“Dear Nana. I’m good. But I’m in love with you. Benjamin.” He wrote that note at around five. His crooked, pencilled letters sprawled across the full eight and an half inch width of paper. I keep it in my Bible to show his future wife, should he marry, that I …

Grandbeans, sleepovers and the great energy crisis

“Two raspberry smoothies coming right up. Time for the berries now, little man.” “I not a widow man,” said the tyke on the tall stool beside me, dumping them in the blender. “I’s Ezwa! I WIKE kitchens!” He’s towheaded, three and unstoppable, our youngest grandbean, Ezra. And he just had …

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