God’s people of the first covenant were given ten rules by their Lord.  They then multiplied them into thousands—hedge around hedge of regulations to govern and restrain them from breaking the first ten.  We as Christians could be guilty of doing that too, with our...

My son-in-law asked me for a hug.  I’d just been hugged by his oldest son Campbell, and Ben wanted some of that action.  So, masked and standing in my family room, we hugged while Campbell looked on.  It was the first such hug in a year, I think.  “For everything...

“With my mouth I will make known your faithfulness to all generations.”  Psalm 89:1

I operate as if loving someone involves only my mouth…that if I can say the right thing, they will know that they are loved.  But the Biblical writer James talks about the tongue as...

Years ago, a neighbor came to my door fighting mad.  My kids were playing out back, and they were screaming and hollering and having a great time.  That wasn’t the source of Pete’s complaint.  He was angry that our dachshund Brandy was jumping around and barking at all...

Flooded with angled sunlight
and the nearest highway’s white noise,

the stones line the riverbed,
tumbled down by torrents that have traveled on

and left them high and dry.  Distant houses dot
the mountain base, infiltrating the wilderness

with green lawns and desert planting--
faux...

Every person’s life has dark corners and slashes of light… a realization that has made me reticent to talk about “sin” in any context other than my own.  Every self-destructive behavior that alienates us from another, every carping criticism leveled at a group or...

It’s that time of year again; I’ve been considering what to give up for Lent.  Giving up chocolate seems too easy and self-serving.  My chocolate cravings would abate after a few days, and I would no longer experience its loss as a prompt to pray.  I might actually lose...

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them and they follow me.”  John 10:27

The way Jesus speaks here is weirdly subtle.  I think that I’ve always subliminally read this as “my sheep hear my voice and THEY know ME.”  But that’s not what Jesus...

O brook, older than
any generation can recall,
drafting ferric-red
through mountain gullies,
eons of erosion
scraping sandstone
to the sea;
superannuated,
yet running faster than
all the memories
that teem and tumble
from my brain,
sweet reminiscences
as well as pain, all
churned and pushed
farther and further
...

When my child was gravely ill
I would feed birds
from plexiglass shelters
suction-cupped
to the kitchen windows;
there I first met
black-capped juncos.
I learned that they flew to us
from distant Oregon;
such tiny wings to carry
such a long, long way. 
How did they do it?
What instinct
brought them...