I love it. I mean really, really love it. {how I spent a rainy day a few summers ago} The smell, the way the grey sky makes everything look greener, the way a coming storm ushers me into a cozy chair with a cup of tea and a candle nearby, sends me flying to the windows to let that rain-laced air in… I love it. A few weeks ago, we helped out with a retreat. Into a winter storm we drove, winding our way through slush and clouds and...

Hmmm. Seems I haven’t posted in a while. I was going to write a post centering on my punny-cheesy excuse for this: “I’m letting sleeping blogs lie.” Get it? Sleeping blogs? Instead of sleeping dogs? [crickets chirp in awkward abundance] Yeah. Those crickets convinced me not to write an entire post about that. Instead, I’ll tell you this: We’re wading our way through a mounting collection of paperwork, and we...

I so often need to be reminded… Peace is not the absence of turmoil, but the presence of God. (See that guy? Now that’s what I call “taking refuge.” Peace in the midst of a storm…) “For He himself is our peace…” Ephesians 2:14 “And He will be their peace.” Micah 5:5 “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts...

Four or so years ago, I was struggling. I was happy, content, joyful… but struggling. You see, there was a corner of my heart that I’d set aside for our “someday” children… … and “someday” would not come. Tears and questions and searching and wondering were there, and sometimes in abundance, but I wouldn’t call them my travelling companions down that road. No, my faithful companion was...

      I’ve been reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. It’s written as satire, in the form of, yes, letters from Screwtape (a high-ranking minion in the underworld) to his nephew Wormwood, on the subject of how best to exploit human nature and deter man from the purpose of his loving Creator (referred to in the book as “the Enemy”.)      Let me tell ya, this tiny volume is not light reading! For...

I’ve been mulling over “cap” for a few days. Don’t ask me how these things pop into my head; it’s a rare occasion that I remember what sparks the word waltz in my brain. Anyhow, I’ve circled the dance floor with the root-word “cap,” and here is the result.  Approximate Transcript of my Mental Exchange with Myself. Me (picture me sitting straight up in bed with one finger raised in...