We remember the childhood trek through the store, when mommy and daddy faded from sight. We scurried and scrambled and shook just a bit and they found us again down the next isle. We remember the more serious journeys of youth, the ones that led down dark paths. We scurried and scrambled and shook a
The mornings roll together in sleepy familiarity. The routine is consistent, the rhythm the same. But this morning I heard a bird trill a familiar tune, and suddenly I was back in that wonted place dear to my heart. Swept up in the music, I sat on my old back porch with Your Words
The dark horizon hides itself in the blackness of the sky. The world is concealed in night this hour, and we watch the motionless mass once again. We have sat awake in many midnights. Never has this black horizon proved persistent. Never has this darkness been eternal. And in the unintentional expectations of our
We have heard the whispered promise that You are still to come. And we, too, have been those who preached those promises, claimed those confessions, declared those decrees. But we also confess that as soon as the creed slipped from our lips, we left the pews without expectation, viable hope, or any bit of
The orations roll off our tongues with tradition and ease. We believe, we do. We believe. … in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ His only Son, our Lord … We believe, we do. But Sundays have a way of hastening to end, and Monday meets us with
Sunday morning has come and gone. We ate our fill, and were very proud we had cleaned our spiritual plate. We heaped our plates with service, song and solitude. And walked out the stained-glass doors satisfied, gratified, and fulfilled. And Monday we sat down in passive wontedness, occupied and busy and quite unconcerned with