Honoring the journey—then and now
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‘Tis the season for silence
Suffering from too much noise these days? Hip hop and rap versions of Christmas standards deafening you in all the department stores? Children incessantly whining and driving you nuts for this year’s must-have, the Tikduck Flying Orb Ball? Or lists of baking and shopping and decorating tasks rattling inside your head? Maybe we need a…
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The value of feeling stupid
I’ve spent a fair amount of my life trying not to look stupid. Abe Lincoln’’s sage advice to keep one’s mouth shut to keep people wondering, rather than opening it to confirm being a fool has not been lost on me. Luckily, as an introvert, I can often let others do the talking– unless an…
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Knowing
Heavy, heavy heart shoving me downward, pushing me into cold darkness, alone. I am trapped, confined, pinned under a weight I can never lift. The bitter knowledge engulfs, seeps into my broken spirit, forces surrender. My eyes spill their tears, my lips both quiver. I cannot stop. I grieve for your loss … and for…
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Bring back “The Benton Bugle!”
My husband bemoans the lack of local newspaper reporting. There are still a couple of reporters, but our print news now comes mostly from the USA Today Network. As a former newspaper employee, going back to having a paper route when he was twelve, he despises reading the news online, even if it’s mostly the…
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What I didn’t learn at church camp
Dark clouds stormed across the lake that evening, as we sat in the camp mess hall staring at mashed potatoes and meatloaf. Our table, usually filled with noisy fourth and fifth graders wrapped in towels and damp bathing suits, was silent. Inside the safety of the third floor of the Quaker Haven lodge, a few campers…
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Out of the mouth of babes
I didn’t believe her. How could I? It was all so outlandish. Fish eyes! A tiny purse! And yet, she was such a precocious child, or so we were told, that I wondered. As new parents, we didn’t have other children for reference. Her first word was “Octi,” for the crocheted octopus she eventually carried…
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Fall Creek prayer
Oh, wind, I hear you rustle the reddening leaves outside the open doorway. Breathe your resurrection into my aching heart that pines for solace; your peace into my unsettled soul.
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Election Day eve
By Barbara Swander Miller I can’t sleep. I turn, wriggle, twist and sigh. Too much news coverage I suppose. Not that they’re reporting anything new, really. Why can’t I just ignore it all? The wind whooshes outside our bedroom window. I hear the maple swaying, imagine its wet leaves littering the ground and front walk,…
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Who are your people? Google them!
Genealogy has had an oscillating presence in my life. Sometimes its fan blows straight at me and keeps me cool and comfy; sometimes it blows in another direction, and I just catch a slight waft of the gentle breeze. Over the years, it’s depended on the amount of time I’ve been able to invest in…
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Call me sparkle toe!
Even though I’ve never worn glittery tops with letters that flash my undeniable school pride, and Even though I loathe finding tiny flecks of glitter stuck to my otherwise plain shirt after opening my craft closet, and Even though I’ve been stuck in the filthy mire of the news and its portents of doom, haunting …
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