WELCOME

The real gifts of Christmas bear no time stamps and linger. These gifts touch hearts and minds long after annual calendars dismiss December’s wintry nights. Sometimes we receive these gifts without full knowledge and need help to understand. 

I received an incomprehensible present when one of my friends gifted me three waxed amaryllis bulbs. I opened the box and saw turnips. Looking again, I found the packing slip identifying the strange items as amaryllis bulbs. I knew what to do with turnips. Flower bulbs required additional guidance.

Some of my earliest memories as a wee child involved big church ideas. I sang truths about Jesus loving all the little children; I prayed with faith Jesus would keep my soul when I laid down to sleep; I learned the verity of the Bible as it told me these things were so.

Repetition, song, prayer. Corporate church, church ladies, neighborhood faithful, and parents taught me and others. Over time learning developed and the concept of grace expanded my lexicon and the person of grace entered my heart.

Amid chaos, we seek peace in nature.

On a river’s edge, fog hangs heavy, blurring autumn’s foliage. Weightless, yet dense, its smoky fingers shroud me in prayer. The sound of a single heart beats in ancient rhythms, grounded on lands mixed in blood and nurtured with change. God’s breath sends leaves, colored with life and etched with death, swirling and dancing final encores against the morning sky.