The Locked Door

It started with a locked recipe box, moved on to a large box with a combo lock. Neither was successful in keeping little fingers off the permanent markers and other contraband. This was annoying, but livable. The real wake up call came when we discovered that the family lock boxes with their impressive safety features should have come with a warning "not safe from nosey kids." We decided to take drastic action and put a padlock on the utility/exercise/office/storage room. A locked room made Christmas a breeze. This was the first time in years our second looked surprised on Christmas Day. We can now keep certain sweets and other food stuffs in the house for longer than a day, and parental treats like Propel Zero for workouts are now routine. If you would have gotten away with it except for those meddling kids, lock the door.

Soiled Faces

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, And lighten with celestial fire; Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost Thy sev’nfold gifts impart. Thy blessèd unction from above Is comfort, life, and fire of love; Enable with perpetual light The dullness of our blinded sight. Anoint and cheer our soilèd face With the abundance of Thy grace; Keep far our foes, give peace at home; Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come. Teach us to know the Father, Son, And Thee, of both, to be but One; That through the ages all along This, this may be our endless song. Praise to Thy eternal merit, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Taken from The Divine Office.

Happy First Birthday, Harriet!

The first draft of my novel is complete. It is still an absolute mess, but the ideas are good. I think I can tell this story. The question now becomes how well can I tell this story. I don't know, but I can do better than this. I need to redraw the outline and then I'm going to experiment with a more stylized approach. But that will have to wait until after Lent. I am setting Harriet aside, except for the dull task of typing her, for all of Lent. No new outline. No breaking out storyist. Nothing but my poor, sad, inefficient, typing. She should enjoy a good nap.

Pastor Ed

I have long admired Ed Dobson. It began during my college days at Liberty University, where he was a frequent speaker. He audaciously believed that if you follow scripture it will work, and that faith moved him to take on some risky business for Jesus' sake. He is also an excellent speaker. When I lost all faith in church, it was to the shelter of Calvary Church we ran. I still couldn't sit through a service, but I could stay in the building. I liked feeling that with Pastor Ed putting Jesus first we had half a chance. In the end I just wasn't meant to be a Protestant.
Ed's new project of telling his story about the adventure of dying is his bravest project to date. There is no greater terror than death. I wonder if Jesus tells us not to fear so often because death is such a constant worry, or if death is our final exam in obedience and he wants us to be prepared. Ed's writing is clear without cutting into our courage. He offers his honest experience so that we may share his honest hope. He is making meaning out of the dark.
Visit him here.