I have never written fiction before, though I have written lots of essays and some poetry, plus professional research articles. But I have always wanted to try. So I am going to jump out of the airplane–and see where the story takes me. The difference is, this will be a kind of performance art, because … Read more An Experimental Short Story
Part of an ongoing serial story Niko followed silently behind Mrs. Stone, but his mind was agitated. He turned over her few words in his mind, much like a jackdaw would look for jewels among pebbles. What did she mean by saying only a fortunate few are welcomed here? Hadn’t he decided on his own … Read more #2 The Beginning part 2
I have come to a conclusion. Perhaps if I had thought about it more carefully at first I would not be surprised. But it has only recently occurred to me that a great deal of the disturbance about evolution—yes, no, theistic, atheistic, guided, unguided, young earth, old earth, Darwinist , near- neutralist, whatever! is about … Read more Not A Simple Question
Part of an ongoing serial story There once was an old woman with a magical house. Every now and again the house would grow a new room, and the old woman would know it was time to expect guests. She never knew who would come, or when, just that some day there would be someone … Read more #1 The Beginning
Why is the world a beautiful place and why does it touch me? When I was 16, my parents gave me a horse. I was a fairly typical teenager— alienated, self-absorbed, and without a way to ground my understanding of the world. I had received a certain worldview from my parents, but it was incomplete … Read more Beauty Leads Us Home
Lord, save me. Gripping sorrow Blinds me. I stumble pathless, lost, Bewildered, buffeted, storm-tossed. Mother Mary, carve some hollow for My aching heart, so I can see.
Wrung, remorseful, aching, Blame eats my bones--where find you, Lord, Within this deep’ning wound? Mother Mary, carve some hollow for My aching heart, so I can heal.
I lie upon a knife of my own making, Etched by accusation. My only hope your cross. Mother Mary, carve some hollow for My aching heart, so I can trust.
Carve the hollow where I hide within His Heart. He heals us by his wounds. Mother Mary, Be my companion In the dark, until the dead arise And empty be the tomb.
Making Note of the Moments 