Words That Cleanse

It is early November, and autumn’s leaves blanket the ground. Each year, our elm canopy releases individual leaves to arc, spiral, or tumble down erratic paths onto the sidewalk, patio, and driveway behind the house. But this year, in October, the leaves, the fence,...

A Mere Breath

The cough released in a cry introduces us to the world over whose persistence our days will waft and eddy. A decade and a half later, we exhale and our vocalizations crack. At an altar, a sigh says “I do.” Anxious, we hyperventilate; shocked, we gasp; frustrated, we...

The Greater Distraction

From anywhere but on it, a bicycle seems a near silent mode of transportation, exercise, and amusement. But anyone with a bike is familiar either with the largely metallic cacophony of scrapes, grinds, creaks, whines, and groans which accompany a ride, or the grease,...

The Light That Shines

I am accustomed to squint on eastward morning drives, but today the sun’s glare is diffused by a few stratus clouds. I can still track its otherwise invisible climb, though, as it illuminates the clouds’ crystals of ice in a blindingly garish display of refraction....

We Belong Now

I wonder if Saturn will continue to evade me when I rise from bed just as Friday becomes Saturday. Changing my pajamas for outdoor clothes, I venture to the driveway where, weather permitting, I will set up my scope and camera. As I squeak open the gate, an uncollared...

First Glimpse of Mercy

Let’s take a field trip to see the mercy of God. It’s a short journey. We are already perfectly situated at the bottom of the deepest gorge any of us have ever seen. Although we arrived here together, the rest of the experience is for each of us as an individual....

Open as His Hand

In our superstition, washing a car breaks a drought, commenting aloud on good luck (without knocking on wood) brings bad, and refusing to shave extends a win streak. As technology and conspiracy replace superstition, we believe our whispered thoughts reach the king’s...

The Plumes We Introduce

Mowing a strip of grass beside the alley behind my house, I nudge against a low, dead stump. The fungus I did not formerly notice erupts, producing a shockingly dense plume of ashen spores. The release continues for several seconds, a gentle breeze wafting the cloud...

No Idle Promise of Persistent Sunshine and Roses

I spend Sunday morning this weekend at a church I have never previously served a couple of hours east of Dallas. As is to be expected for a first worship time together, all is well. After lingering in conversation with some congregants and church leadership, I pile...

Lush Lawns and Scraggly Bushes

The west Texas of my earliest childhood is desert. Green grass and trees taller than children erupt only where wells peek into the water table and pipes or channels distribute the benefit. Nearby sandhills, reminiscent of Mojave dunes, emphasize the region’s...