Tonight I blurred my words and remembered you, fondly. Sometimes when you blur your words with a friend—it heals your soul, and you know you’re not alone. You are not alone. The vagueness of life demands analgesic, and sharing of vulnerabilities leaves the sweetest taste. In the braided arms of convivial moments and beloved friends…
Tag: photography
Unmerited
To spurn all of this— To credit no one for the systematic order and glory of the universe—that He spoke into existence by the breath of a Word, conceived by the sharp-edge of wit, unmatched, cared for by the extravagant heart of a benevolent Father, and held together by the surge and swell of unbending…
One Nod
In time, you stop gathering things and begin to collect moments. You learn to draw a deep furrowed line in the world to hedge off the chaos and begin to measure life by the wealth of blessing without sorrow and suffering that has spurned evil for good. At long last, you cease competition and cleave…
Winter Sweep
The fire crackles hot, while I drink steaming mugs of tea on the run. I would like to pause to mark these moments laden with winter beauty, the icy limbs of barren branches, the silver silence of powder snowfall, the midnight, moonlight sparkle of downy flake, and the blinding sting of noonday. But my closets…
Stretching Forward into 2023
Our hearts are are so full and grateful as we reflect on 2022 and greatly anticipate 2023. God has been so good to us. We are so grateful for the privilege of serving our Savior at home and abroad. Looking to the future without fear is only possible with the saving grace of God and…
Part 2 The Long Mynd
“I sometimes wonder if all pleasures are not substitutes for joy.” CS Lewis On our second evening in Norbury at The Crown B & B, we heard about a Eucharist service that evening at the St Michael’s and All Angels’ church. Just a short walk from the pub, we grew eager to attend the liturgy…
1000 Generations!
My maternal grandmother and mother have been the caretakers of an old Bible that belonged to my great grandparents, William and Grace Coston. It’s huge and heavy—almost too big and cumbersome to read from my lap. The tattered leather cover is bound by an old brass clasp, and it’s pages are yellowed and fragile. Both…
Summer Garden
I can stand for hours in the midst of a summer garden—awash in silence— save a symphony of lilting birdsong, babbling brook, and the rustling of wind through weeping willows, the wild lilac, and dripping wisteria. I can wait there—longer than the darkness and sorrow of night—longer than the brassy banging of a mad world….
Shades of Violet
When I was in the seventh grade, a new girl checked into our homeroom class named Darla Star. She shone like a beacon in a dark sky with her curly raven hair, beaming brown eyes, and confident smile. To this day, I think those magenta suede go-go boots, that she glamorously paraded, gave her a…
Dilemma of Joy
My treasured keepsakes bulge in pockets of time—rather moments—that are tucked hard against the bones of my heart. They remain as fresh and life-giving as the first-offerings of spring rosesbuds, tight with fragrance and bleeding of crimson that smears across my fingers as I pull them out one petal at a time. The edges are…
Bonnie Saul Wilks 