The sun will rise over the frozen lake tomorrow, new and brilliant as always. A new day and a new year bound up in one gift to celebrate and to steward. This marker of time is arbitrary, truly, and yet we need these waypoints to remember what has gone before, to anticipate what may come … Continue reading The New

I was talking with a friend this morning about songs that run through our heads, and she mentioned the children's song, "Jesus Loves Me". I rocked my babies to sleep singing this warm assurance over them as they drifted off on my shoulder many years ago. But sometimes I need to remind myself of these … Continue reading This I Know

The sun rises differently in the mountains. Where there is no horizon, it slips over the peaks and ridges to reach our town. I remember walking the mile to the school bus stop, starting off in the gray and blue silence and then watching as the light first topped the highest pine trees, turning the … Continue reading Sunrise

"Your closest exit may be behind you." Have you ever heard that reminder from a flight attendant? He mentions that because sometimes our focus is so fixed ahead of us that we forget to take into consideration what is behind us. It's the same way with history. We are fearful of where our world is … Continue reading What Lies Behind

In southern California where I was raised,  all the backyards in my neighborhood were fenced. Neighbors didn't traipse through your back yard; if they had business with you, they had to come to the front door and knock.  I came from a home that was "invitation only" - and invitations were few and carefully issued. … Continue reading Fences

Sometimes it seems a lifetime ago that I lived in my little town in the mountains. I miss small-town life; the being known. I miss having the boundaries established and purposes to fulfill. My little mountain town came close to burning down last month. The houses across the street from my childhood home all burned, … Continue reading Evacuation