You can’t do this, he said to me. (Or was it I?) You’ll never be able to do this. I tried to argue back, But the words turned over and over in my mind. It was an embarrassing failure for one such as I. Just give up. What’s the point? The proposition was tempting. You’ll lose your family over this. It seemed a logical end. You’re a failure. I believed him. Look at what you’re costing your family. They’re better off without you. You can’t do this. You’re alone. I tried to push through, Carrying on with my day and my tasks, But I ended up in the middle of the bed, Sitting and sobbing and wishing for a way […]

Morning Light

Frozen ground beneath the stars Lonely stillness near and far Darkness over home and hearth But then the sun arose Casting rays of gold and amber Waking life e’en in December Warming, thawing all of nature In the sun. Give thanks. ————— All was war and cold and hard Darkness lay in each man’s heart Hopelessness and death our part But then the Son arose Waking man to hope and life In His love and in His light Death no more our dreadful plight. In the Son, give thanks.

On Blueberries

My boys eat blueberries like candy. I’d rather they eat blueberries than candy. We buy them in large bags, freshly frozen, and we pour them liberally, summer’s bounty in a mid-winter bowl. One child— he who likes sameness and predictability— asks for them daily. For health and possibility and love, I oblige. As I thaw another handful under the cool flow of water, I remember the prick of bushes, sweetness wafting on the air, and a steep descent. The heat, the sweat, the weight, the work— All for a small pail of goodness To be picked through and washed and savored. I am suddenly aware of our family’s wealth And our poverty. Even as I rejoice over the goodness I […]