Blog
Grief
Pouring a Cup…Need One?
I don’t know about you, but I need to breathe in a soothing scent. Coffee it is. The water is boiling, our cups are set. I’ve opened up His Love Letter to us. It’s over here on the table, come sit with me? There is this section that I keep thinking about. Look with me...
Mystery Merges With Miraculous
It was eleven degrees outside and still dark. We were drinking coffee. “Did you really write that? A wee Babe’s face? Todd asked after I read him my poem. “I did. You don’t like it?” “Wee?” “What?” “We don’t talk that way,” he said attempting a Scottish accent. “A...
Writing My Father’s Stories ~a Reflection
Fannie and I had a big outing to the Post Office this week. I thought ahead, and stocked up on Christmas stamps while I was there. Last year, I sent out all the cards from the boxes that had collected in the attic over the years, so I still need cards. My parents were...