Feelings

They gather— like the sound of laughter at a party or black-cloaked mourners at a graveside or storm clouds thundering in. They move— like an eagle mounting the wind, or a turtle shrinking back into his shell, or a hiker lost in the wilderness. They read the signs— like a fortune teller or a political … Continue reading Feelings

Not So Very Far

For my friend, Frances, on her first birthday with Jesus Left alone with your memory— the fading image, the distant voice are not the wounds I thought they’d be for we are not so very far apart— Heaven has you, and I have Heaven in my heart.

My Poet

Most people come in prose— masterpieces that the world could not do without. But when You wrote me, you wrote poetry— imaginative, concise, and rhyming You. And when I look around, I see glory where others see cliche— bits of poetry sprouting in the grass, jumping trees with squirrels, resting moon-like in the clouds. I … Continue reading My Poet

Drawing Hearts

I like drawing hearts— crude but satisfying reflections of the bubbling swirl of warmth and determined goodwill inside us when we love. But if I could draw hearts forever, sketching galaxy to galaxy across the universe, I could not capture, even in part, the breadth of Jesus’ love. ❤️ .

What Would Have Been

The clench of pain, the darkness pressing; the future robbed, all longing wasted; the music quenched, the pleasure hollow; the loves in vain, the friendships fading; all losses sealed, the grief unbroken; all hope unknown, all roads unsteady; a failing breath, and death forever— if Jesus had not risen. .