Friday evening, Wayne and I celebrated our pastor and his wife’s 50th wedding anniversary at Three Forks in Dallas. Although we had been there, it was a first for Syble and Olen. And we used more than “three forks” to celebrate. In fact, we used 12 forks altogether: four for salad, four for steak, potatoes, creamed corn, and…
Tag: life
Slice of Life
Here’s a slice of life. I have been sitting by the fire all day in this big chair, reading. Pure luxury. Ahhh, a day just to read… and not to write… to think… and not to write…
From My Cold Window
Winter night alone… icy branches in the wind like cold empty arms. Winter night alone… blue snow under the street lamp blue flames in the hearth.
Anchored
I, like thousands of Americans, am deeply grieved about the university tragedy yesterday. I am angry. The blood shed of innocent life is unconscionable.
Pouch of Myrrh
Myrrh for a pouch… My beloved is to me a pouch of myrrh which lies all night between my breasts. –Song of Songs 1:13 A few years ago, I wept through a message, delivered at my home church, by Gary Wiens on the above Scripture. I am still moved to tears when I remember his…
This Part…
We are in the Lufthansa lounge in Frankfurt waiting to fly home in a few hours. I am recollecting the last two weeks while enjoying a latte…
Stepping into the 20s
We are in the mountains of Cyprus. It is so cold, but the fresh mountain air, the scent of pine, and the wood burning in the fireplaces are invigorating. This clean air almost makes me dizzy. It is great to be here in the community where we lived for three years. The relationships are dear and…
Crisis?
“How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is To have a thankless child!” –William Shakespeare
Mr. Sick
Before I lived abroad, before I had a daughter, before I was a pastor’s wife, before I was married, before I lived on a kibbutz in Israel, I worked as a nurse–for many years–in Colorado and then Texas. I graduated from Porter Memorial Hospital in Denver, so many years ago I don’t care to remember…
Fading Fingerprints
In my recent post, “The Last Gift,” I wrote about the last present that Dad gave me on Thanksgiving Day. It was practical, a plastic toothpick holder filled with toothpicks. This morning the thought occurred to me that Dad’s fingerprints, literally, are still on that gift. If I had the powder that the police use…
Bonnie Saul Wilks 