Thanksgiving and Advent
Advent has begun, with tiny boxes of surprises, a calendar we enjoy and reuse. In each box I put a sweet treat, or a clue leading to it…
Advent has begun, with tiny boxes of surprises, a calendar we enjoy and reuse. In each box I put a sweet treat, or a clue leading to it…
I open wide and soak it in, the full moon just coming white and misty from behind the clouds, or hanging its enormous full-blazed orange…
My birthday was lovely & your words were sweet & I thought maybe I would reply to them all, but then it would take me till my next birthday.
“Don’t put that in your mouth, be nice to the dog, stop taking toys away from your sister, sit down please, what a great drawing you made.”
I love when art and literature and life experiences push me into the nonsense-hilarity of living and being human in this world. Just that.
Yann Martel: “I must say a word about fear. It is life’s only true opponent… It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know.”
Sadness lies abed of a morning with a question mark, and anger turns the viewpoint red, tips over tables, but fear sits in the corners…
What is the role of a believer? How do we bring light? When a naïve and evangelistic Christian meets a seasoned old scamp, who blesses whom?
At one special place, if I look to the right at exactly the right moment, I see a long straight sideroad made of dirt. It slopes down easy…
There is apple pie in the sunshine with apples from our own tree, and there is the radiant face of a child buried in corn.