I’ve gathered my favorites from 2018 and I’m locking them in, “final answer”. I tend to categorize and collect in life, and that may be reflected below. But it’s also because I have such a bad memory, this list is basically a note to myself to remember later. If you’ve liked some of these too, let me know!
It’s been a stretch of formlessness creatively, waiting for change to spark. More creative input than output. After writing about and for change, it’s been good to drop the agenda and just breathe.
It could seem empty unless I close my eyes and see the change already at work, hovering over the waters.
Inhale, exhale. Continue reading “The Hovering”
If the Return of the Prodigal Son were a theater production, which part would I audition for? After spending Advent immersed in the story, I know I could play either son well. But do I have what it takes to play the father?
I set out on this writing project without knowing it would end where it started: Continue reading “Living the Painting: Advent Week Four”
The prodigal son was once an innocent child, and then he wasn’t. And now he wants to be again.
Last week‘s Advent focused on Hope by sitting with the Father on the porch, “actively waiting for that moment when the child turns home.” This week I’m inviting myself to return home with the son, who like the second week of Advent, is yearning for Peace. I’m spending time with Rembrandt’s painting and Nouwen’s book to cast new light on my favorite parable.
The prodigal son was a child, a young man, who declared in the most dramatic way, “Myself.” My daughter as a toddler would pull Continue reading “Child Again: Advent Week Two”
The film Lady Bird transported me to places familiar: to high school, to trying to fit in and longing to get out. To shutting your parents out while hoping they would stay in. To driving nowhere, anywhere, just to fill the car speakers with the soundtrack of teenage friendships. To shopping in thrift stores and Continue reading “Lady Bird”