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I needed to see my work with a craftsman's eye if I was to turn the corner into the second half of my life.
You round the corner, speeding into the kitchen. Your three year old has pushed one of your ladder back chairs to the counter and climbed up and is precariously standing there, yanking and...
I walked into the classroom. No books on the shelves. Linoleum floor, cracked. No area rugs. Crayons, paper, glue, scissors, blocks? Nope. Well, at least there were desks and a blackboard.
I think it is a normal human response to care deeply about those things we have invested time and energy and talent into creating.
Years ago--almost 20, I think--I wrote a book of meditations on Proverbs, a little devotional for budding adolescents somewhere around the 8th-grade level. I remember the title, catchy--Take it from a Wise Guy...
I spent several days last week surrounded by writers, artists, musicians and poets. It was the Writer’s Retreat at Laity Lodge, in Texas, my second year attending. This is a stark contrast from...
Figuring out how to integrate our faith with our work is a primary interest for the High Calling community.
For PhotoPlay and Random Acts of Poetry, we asked you to think about rust and how it alters an object. The act of of taking photos and of writing poetry can have a...
I stop the car, let it idle, and look around me. Not sure where one parks at the edge of a rubbish heap, I edge the vehicle into what I think will be...
It still feels like a risk—this keeping of the journal. I started keeping the secret words in the fifth grade and when...
With imagination, the impossible becomes possible. The unseen becomes real. With imagination we are able to see the numinous in the ordinary.
