acrylic on metal
I want to read Emily Freeman’s book, Grace for the Good Girl, the way my three year old wanted to hear me talk about him on his play phone. He would hand me the phone and wait expectantly while I gave the listener a play by play description of his activities. He wanted to see […]
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 […]
So I found myself in the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret trying on the Bombshell bikini top. Now, I don’t have a problem with a little enhancement. Sometimes a little smoothing, shaping, or boosting can make a big difference. I believe in making the most of what you have. But there’s a point at which enhancement turns into something else entirely […]
Most of us are familiar with the story of the son who rejects everything he’s ever known to live what he thinks is the good life. He moves far away from home and spends his entire inheritance chasing his misguided dreams. Eventually his life choices have narrowed to sleeping with the pigs he feeds. When […]
Brain dead. Like anything dead, it seems so final. I’m sitting beside my father’s death bed. There’s that word again. Death. It’s why you say goodbye when you can. Why you say, thank you and I love you, over and over. So when the only sound is the shallow breathing of the ventilator and the […]
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 woman he loved had her arm outstretched. She was offering him the fruit, the juice still dripping down her chin. The man watched himself take a bite.
This part of being with Jesus can be exasperating. It’s like you never have a quiet moment. At times I want to shut it all out, go into a dark cave and just forget about all that need pushing its way into my personal space.
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.
She did not like the idea of her husband being with another woman, especially not her maid, and she was glad that part was over. Was it her imagination, or was Hagar patronizing her?
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.