Weavings

Writer’s block—two simple words that always spoke to me of impending doom, frustration and irritation—was something I always feared, and so I withheld from regular, daily writing because of it. The irony, of course, is that writing daily is often what keeps us from writer’s block in the first place. But, those are the lessons we learn with age and maturity, growth... Keep Reading →

Christian community, like beauty, often presents itself in the intimate, the common, the close at hand. It comes to bud and flower in the simplest of places. Race by, and we miss it. Wait to see it in some idealized state, and we pass without knowing it is there. “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them”... Keep Reading →

The woods this morning didn’t look any different from autumn: trees bare, grass brown, dead leaves on muddy ground. But spring is happening. The woods were thick with bird song. I saw the beaver who hides in the brook. I came upon a little marsh where some little critter was singing away, a single frog proclaiming its news. Others joined in, in... Keep Reading →