Why God Did You Make Him So?

Remembering the smell 

of wood and leather,

crisp paper and a fire.

The smell of solid and old.

Crying tears of great relief there. 

Knowing they understood.

Them looking down on the little girl.

Looking out to ask God: “Why?”

Why, God, did You make him so?

She is so full of love and joy.

She fairly dances down the street.

Her heart is tiny and dear.

How can she bear the pain she will see and feel?

How can her mother, our Darling, carry on with that child?

Why, God, did You make him so?

He ached too deep.

He demanded too much.

No comfort could he take.

No gentle word or touch 

would get in to soothe 

his inner fire and misery.

Did he imagine that pain?

Did he just make it up to get attention?

Was he truly hateful?

Did he reflect and feel regret?

What created such crucible fears?

How, God, could You make him so?


I Seek the Solace

I seek the solace of empty space

with sacred music and sky.

There will be such a place

when I am older still.

When I go to lie down on the mountain

then all will be clear and I will

see Him face to face.

A Little Big Epiphany

The children's wash stand, North Carolina mansion

Glows like Vermeer

Today I have a little big epiphany to celebrate. For months, I have been chasing the young mavens who tout inspirational feasibility  to all of us who would love to have a business in surface pattern design, or internet sales, or many other avenues. Attractive.

And I don’t even want a business. I just realized this! It’s embarrassing to think back to all the trails I started to follow. I have all the time and equipment I need to pursue so many things already: what was I thinking?! Out of my mind.

I am going to unsubscribe to all those email feeds and offers of classes and trainings, even the free stuff. Except Uppercase Magazine. See it. Creatives and wow. Intriguing and satisfying.

Wanting to accomplish other things, I want to apply lots and lots of elbow grease and time with calligraphy, making books, designing space in this house and studio, and walking to harvest flowers to press. Sorting and editing images to sell. Sorting the collections of objects collected over my lifetime.

I started Yoga. Humming. Walking. Sneezing. But not building a business.

Botanical beauty. Greens and browns and blues.

Poetic realizations. Words and winding and wonderful.

Ancient pathways. Old stones and birdsong and priests.

Last year I couldn’t get over pneumonia. And it was “just one damn thing after another”, as my Juanita mother said. But I looked up and forward and kept on. Joy is not the absence of suffering, it is the presence of God. This year is a forward season. Joy is here. God is all over it.

Happy now. Off to cancel emails.

Degrees of Illness

I have three very dear friends who are in the highest degrees of illness.

I, on the other hand, will most likely return, in about a month, to a bearable and livable degree of health.

Yesterday there were tears of despondency. Just for me, for my loneliness.

Yesterday I realized the difference between the condition of those friends and my own. They face heavier burdens and are lonely too.

The tears stopped.

The prayers continued.

And as if to confirm and delight in my proper perspective, today there is the redbird posing and the baby swallows practicing their soaring, and the blue birds dancing and playing around their tiny house.

Thank You Father, please guard the hearts of my friends from despair in their degrees of illness.


Museums and libraries really get my motor going.

This week I have been privileged to help install an exhibit about my church in Bastrop, Calvary Episcopal. This is their 150th year of existence and one of the oldest buildings in Bastrop.

The exhibit is housed in the Bastrop Historical Society Museum and Visitors Center on Main Street. The opening is at 5:30 on Friday, April 5. The downtown has a big party, kind of, called First Friday, every first Friday of the month. The shops are open late and the wine flows!The museum is free that day!

The architect of the church also designed the Bastrop County Courthouse. I think I am correct in saying that.

Hope you can go see this exhibit some time during April and May.

Christmas Eyes

If you have had cataract surgery, you will maybe know what I am talking about. If not, then here is what is is for me.

Imagine this: looking up at trees you cannot see the individual leaves. You know there are individual leaves but they are indistinguishable to your eyes because you are on the ground and those leaves are far away up high.

I have a new toric lens for astigmatism in my right eye. Now that it is settled in and has become clear—are you ready?—I can see the leaves. I can see that street lights have fixtures and bulbs in them. I can see the fence posts all the way across half an acre.

But the other eye sees colored shapes with no detail and fuzzy color. My brain allows these two eyes to work together, minimizing the fuzzy eye and letting the clear eye dominate for distance vision!

The lesson for me is perfect for Christmas. Our hearts and eyes need constant renewing focus through the deep lens of God’s word.

John 1:1-5 says,

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome[a] it.

That’s the Lord Jesus. The Word. From the beginning. Always and ever. I can see Him. Amen

May the Light of the Word help you focus clearly this Christmas.