Rain on dry dust. I remember walking barefooted down a dirt road as a kid in Arkansas, watching those first few drops strike the ground before me. The dust became blotched with dark blobs of wetness, and as more sprinkled down, my nostrils filled with the incredible rich smell of the earth beginning to drink. … More Inkspill No. 20: Rain on Dry Dust
I am learning to overcome a natural tendency toward absentmindedness. This tendency is usually triggered by worry, agitation, stress — the cure for these being, of course, the peace of Jesus Christ. Suffice it to say I have not always practiced this peace, and the Lord has bailed me out of more scrapes than I … More Inkspill No. 19: Saving Love
We all need God, more than we can possibly imagine. Apart from the check of His hand, humans are capable of monstrous things. I’ve been thinking a lot about the repercussions of decisions I’ve made in the past; things I can’t change. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m really not as important as … More Inkspill No. 18: Identity Crisis? Read on.
“Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.” — Psalm 100:4 One thing I notice about living a life of grace is that I never run out of things to be thankful for. As soon as I realize how good God is, and … More Inkspill No. 17: Every Good and Perfect Gift
Cares. Caring, care for, careful. Care-full. I know why people go on vacation. It’s to forget, for a time, the weight of the words above listed. Or at least try to. There is, of course, a positive connotation to the word care: that is, to tend to lovingly, as in “caring” for an ailing family member. One of … More Inkspill No. 13: The Fine Art of Carrying Burdens
There’s nothing like a winter evening in the Rocky Mountains when the weather’s clear. The sky is palest aquamarine, tinged with purple and streaked with light. The bouldered bluffs and evergreen crests are lit to the color of fire, while the snow in the meadows undulates with blue shadows. Dry golden grasses peek through … More Inkspill No. 10: Live Like You’re Free
My sandaled feet leave tracks in the dust. The sun is heavy on my head, weariness cloaks my body like the robe I’m wearing . . . . and yet I’ve never felt more ready for adventure. I’ve been on Emmaus road, talking with Jesus, and my heart is burning within me. It’s almost 2:00 a.m. and I’m going … More Inkspill No. 9: Charting a New Course
If God is for us, who can be against us? Who can be my foe if God is on my side? There truly is an art to turning the other cheek; to sucking it up. When your cloak is demanded of you, to offering your tunic also. With those who would drive you a mile, … More Inkspill No. 8: Why Take the Punches?
I have lived nineteen years on God’s green earth. From outer space, of course, this planet is more blue ocean than green land–but if you have ever looked intently into the bouncing waters beneath your quick white tourist boat, as I did one year in Newport–you know that seawater is (in its heart) green. . … More Inkspill No. 7: Time Thoughts
My Dear, You have discovered (to your astonishment) that the good opinions of other people are not, in the end, what brings you happiness. How much grief you’ve caused yourself, attempting to explain your spirit to the world! For in doing so you inevitably alter the truth of it in an effort to win their … More Inkspill No. 5: To a Young Woman