Saturday, June 25, 2016

All I Need
Some nights all I need is the
neighbor’s porchlight to dance
through nervous aspen leaves.
Seeing this morse code causes me to
fall asleep with hope as the
last thing on my mind.
Thinking that jim-dandy word causes me to
dream of my children’s future,
and of my place in it.
(~John Blase, "The Beautiful Due" blog)
Solitude shows us the way to let our behavior be shaped not by the compulsions of the world but by our new mind, the mind of Christ.
(~Henri J.M. Nouwen, "The Way of the Heart")

Friday, June 10, 2016

"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well..."
(~Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write. 
(~Annie Proulx)
What the future held for her she didn't know. Of two things only she was certain. There would be children-her own or other people's-and there would be books. 
(~Alice Dalgliesh)
"When I Think of My Father"

It is akin to the guilt
the survivor feels at being
the one who
somehow someway
endured the accident that thieved
the lives of so many others.
That’s how it sometimes
feels when I think of my father.
Why can I give testimony
of this man’s unbroken worship
when so many others are
wrecked again and again
by the men who gave them
their legal names?
I have no answers. I simply limp
along a witness pulled
somehow someway
from the flames
by a flawed good man.
This is not only my story.
This is my song.
(~John Blase: The Beautiful Due Blog)

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Even mourning takes practice: resisting the distractions that insulate us from facing up to the tragedy of the world in which we find ourselves, we need to teach our children to mourn for neighbors who bear the brunt of injustice, even though we grieve as those with hope (I Thess. 4:13). Sometimes in this fallen world the best thing we can do is teach our children how to be sad.
(~James K. A. Smith, You Are What You Love)