May is an interesting month for me. Sort of an emotional smorgasbord. I know what’s on the menu, but I still find myself surprised by the intensity of the flavors. May 5th is our anniversary. This year marked twenty-six years of marital monkeyshines. Get married, y’all. Then have a few kids. It’ll grow you up […]
The praise band meets before church each Sunday to run through the music, so I leave our house about 45 minutes before George and Jacob do. When they arrive, Jacob comes into the sanctuary and listens until time for Sunday school. I sit with my back to the congregation, but I can see the whole
That’s Enough Practice Read More »
George is a scientist, but he doesn’t think like one. Or, I should say, he doesn’t think like most people expect a scientist to think. He loves biology for its beauty. He sees the art in life. He sees the hand of the Artist behind it. George is a scientist, but he’s also a poet.
The conductor raised his baton, cued the poet, and the phone sang in tune with the music of the spheres. Or something like that. Her husband sat at the table nearby sorting the mail. She’d just read the poem on the screen silently to herself. Twice. And, as she had so many times before, she
Glimpses of the symphony Read More »
Remember the standard, elementary school, first-day-back-to-class assignment? Every year it was the same thing. “Okay, boys and girls, take out a sheet of notebook paper, and write your name in the top right corner.” Then the teacher would pick up a brand new stick of chalk and write these words on her pristine blackboard. “What
“My Adventures” by ElleZymn, Chapter One: Rocky Mountain High Read More »
When I got in my car Wednesday night to drive home from Tyler, I tried to plug Over the Rhine’s “Good Dog Bad Dog” into my CD player. The machinery would whir a bit then spit the CD back out. Between attempts I’d hear snatches of beautiful classical music, but I mostly ignored it. I
After the final benediction Sunday morning I remained at the piano, jamming with the band as usual. Then I faced the three guitarists, said, “Always a pleasure, gentlemen,” and headed to the sound booth to gather my lead sheets. It’s funny. You spend your whole life becoming. Always working toward goals. Always looking ahead to
A Carolina chickadee just lunched at the feeder outside my window. No doubt preoccupied with important chickadee affairs, he tarried only long enough to elicit admiration for his jaunty black cap and debonair, grey dinner jacket. Then, with a twinkling ebony eye, he cocked his head as if to tip his hat and flitted off,
A Little Bird Told Me Read More »
Maker of moments, Designer of days, Purify my motives — let my ways Be sanctified, from selfish aims Redeemed. And when I cannot see For churning passion (mud-encumbered Ego feet, dragging half the world), free This foolish bird who simply longs To fly. Loose the chains of gains That weight the wings, and sing Your
I listened, and as I listened, I prayed. His pain touched places in my heart few ever reach. Even now unhurried tears flow silently down my cheeks. Tears for a brokenness I know must be lived through one breath at a time. And yet, all is well. All is infinitely well. The sun passes over