A plan is just that. A plan. But for me, a necessary place to start. It keeps me from rambling. Wandering. Heading out aimlessly. Maybe it would best be called "direction". Direction sounds less rigid. Room for change or adaptation. Shifting with inspiration. Often my plans lead to productivity. Accomplishments. That's a good thing. But…
We spend a lifetime learning. From books. From experience. From mistakes. From the wisdom of those steps, or miles, ahead of us. It's a journey. A winding path. And I picture each of us having a ledger where we log entries under the column, "things I have learned". Mine would be leather bound, oversized, with…
The garden. I believe there was great intentionality in choosing it as the location where man would make his entry into this world. The perfect place to start. He could have been placed anywhere. A mountaintop with views of creation at every turn. A beautiful home made of the finest materials. A mansion. Or even…
I tend to be contemplative. Particularly as I end a year. Christmas has been put away. It is a memory now. For some it is to be tucked away, treasured on difficult days. A time when all seemed right. Even for a moment. Brief as it may be. For others it is to be packed…
I continue to wrestle with an ongoing question to which I have no perfectly written answer. But I must keep asking. And searching. And praying for a heart that reaches far outside itself. Outside the bubble where I keep it protected from the realities that are so uncomfortable and disconcerting. How do I live my…
When I complete a painting, the final image is the culmination of many, many decisions that were made throughout the process. Color. Texture. Hard edges. Broken edges. More? Less? Palette knife? Brush? How to start. When to stop. On and on and on....... Each choice may seem small, but each choice affects the end result.…
Dad. I dreamed that one day tiny tots would pull on my pant leg, waiting to be picked up, calling me by that name. And they did. Two beautiful girls. Prettier than any I'd ever seen. And they still are. There have been many dolls. Many beaches. Many bowls of popcorn. Much dancing in the…
I love dirt. The sight. The smell. And especially the feel of it sifting through my fingers. I even love foods with an "earthy" taste. Ironically, putting my hands in the earth makes me feel close to heaven. Grounded. Maybe it's the fact that God chose to make Adam from "the dust of the ground".…
The Table. It’s the center of our house. Literally. It’s large enough to seat ten. But we have been known to fit twelve. I’ve said for years that my idea of a crowd is the number of people who can sit around the table. No more. If there are more than that, conversation descends to…
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