If Wild Is Free

I have a black-and-white photo of my grandmother from the 1940s that I treasure. She’s dressed in pants and a flannel, kneeling in the grasses of an Oklahoma prairie, focused on something ahead. Balanced on her shoulder is a rifle of some sort. Her hair is short and curled, messy from the breeze. And though…

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Where the Orange Blossoms Are

Very few of my grandmother’s possessions survived the devastating fire that destroyed her clapboard home well after her eightieth birthday: four dining room chairs, a side table, and her front porch rocker. I am reminded how fortunate I am that two unique treasures of hers made their way into my hands. One she had already…

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Embracing Innocence

 “When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” – C.S. Lewis It happened almost every Sunday night. My parents and I would return home from the evening service at church, open the door, and be met by a burst of heat.…

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The Price of Life

I looked at the clock as the phone was ringing. It was 5:15 AM and Andrew was calling to let us know that his wife, Elizabeth, had just given birth to our grandson.

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The Ache of Presence

I knew I had to bake a cake and be present to the past. It was not at all what seemed possible on these busy few days before the holidays. Everything within me wanted to stay disconnected from the weight that was creeping into my “to do” list.

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Dreaming Again

After spending time with my grandchildren and my brother I am finding my heart to be more tender than I had known previously.

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