Every day I offer up my writing, imagining the five loaves and two fish. Far too often I’m breaking up the bread before I lay it in the basket. And all I’m left with is a bunch of crumbs. I’m meting it out — this bit will go here, this bit I can blog. Too […]
A response to Joe Bunting’s Fail Faster (So You Can Become a Better Writer). “Writers are terrible judges of their own work,” Joe said. The words resonated deep in the recesses of my soul. All my life, I was the student in the front row, needing that big red “A” to tell me I was […]
This was first posted last summer, but I couldn’t find it anywhere on my blog. Since my sister shows up a lot in my posts, and I have some upcoming posts inspired by her recent visit, I thought I’d repost this “intro” to one of my most favorite people in the world. A gun and […]
It’s only a body. That’s what I said when we talked about death, mine in particular. I pictured my body in a bed (how often do people actually die in a bed?) and my spirit, the real me slipping away, suddenly untethered from its bodily constraints. Free at last. I won’t be there, I said. […]
These shoes look like ordinary high tops, in the Converse style that a lot of people are wearing these days. Actually, they’re much more, and not because they’re this incredible, burnished bronze, reminiscent of something Renaissance, or because they’re so comfortable (unlike most of the hard, flat, archless versions of this style), or because they […]
By the time she discovered the spring, her head was hot and throbbing. Dirt streaked across her face where her tears had mingled with the wilderness dust. Hagar sat down to rest, splashing the cool water on her face. For the first time since she left, she realized she had no plan.
The killing had been quick and easy. Too easy. Abel had suspected nothing and offered no resistance. In a moment the light had gone out of his brother’s eyes, “like one of his sacrificial lambs,” Cain thought, but immediately he dismissed it from his mind. He had just finished washing his hands. The dirt from […]
I watch the monster who is me pressing the blade into my brother’s flesh until his blood runs hot over my own flesh. I see my brother’s face, the shadow passing over it when he realizes what I’m about to do. I rewind and see him running towards me from across the field. He is just within arm’s reach. I can choose to embrace him, but instead I pull my knife from its sheath.
The woman had never paid much attention to the serpent, not that she could recall. He had stayed on the periphery, his voice interjecting occasionally, but always under the radar.
He was not a coward. No, not in many things. But he had an irrational fear, a foreboding almost, that someone might kill him to get at Sarah.
Musing on Genesis 3 “Did God really say you can’t eat from any tree of the garden?” The serpent isn’t so much attempting to verify God’s exact words as he is injecting a note of incredulity, pointing out the absurdity of God’s edict. With one word, the serpent calls into question God’s judgment, his reasonableness. […]