A HALF TURN AWAY Heaven is a half turn away, barely out of sight in the periphery of vision.  If you could turn hard right, or spin quick left, you’d catch a tiny glimpse  There! but no, not quite there…   If you could whirl around, in the mist of the ‘almost’, take a quickstep leap, you’d be walking on gold, knocking on Peter’s gate.  More often it’s a…

I laughed in the limousine on the way to Dad’s funeral. Uncle Paul was sitting up front with the driver and Uncle Paul had apparently never ridden in a limousine before. He peppered the poor driver with all sorts of questions that the driver was loathe to answer. He wanted to know how fast she’d go, and if it was hard to corner, and what size engine it had.…

Pastors think a lot about sermon takeaways. We want people to get the primary thing we believe God has for them. As I listened to Eric’s sermon last Sunday on the belt of truth and appreciated his takeaways. But I also had another takeaway, one he didn’t necessarily intend. I loved his story about going up to Babad Do’ag (Frog Mountain) with Sue, Ashton, and Elliott and sitting together in…

As I was praying this morning it dawned on me (again) what a beautiful gift adversity is. It allows us to suffer, opening our hearts to God and to each other. Identifying with Christ and following in his path means trials will come. They make us turn from our ability and power and lean on the One who overcomes death. As we suffer we become aware of the suffering…

In 1997 I moved to Tucson to plant a church. I didn’t know what I was doing and felt very alone. Two years later I was an abject failure and looking to return to the world of business. Then God introduced me to Eric and the Seneca house. Slowly God began to gather people around us. Broken people. Hurting people. Stumbling people. People like me. Somehow God gathered people…

https://www.thebanner.org/columns/2020/11/sitting-in-the-sun

Tamale Day (an Italian sonnet) I watch you standing near the steaming pot, perspiration’s glow dripping down your face. You splay the corn husks with an expert grace, spread masa just the way your mother taught. Black olives, not green, always hit the spot. There is history you will not erase, traditions from another time and place, tamales made with love just can’t be bought. Memories of kids standing…

A TRIOLET OF PRAISE The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drift upon the breeze, float high where simple praises waft. The embers of the hymn burn soft. Sparkling descants climb aloft, soar above angel devotees. The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drifting on the breeze.

What joy it is to watch and join in Sunday worship, along with Kathy, from our living room. What a privilege to hear God’s word, confess our sin, pray, hear God’s blessing, and sing familiar songs from the comfort of our home. It’s fun to hear Mr. Hand and shout out Happy Birthday to people we love. How good it is to hear familiar voices and see Mark and…

FROM HERE ON UP Walking the long, slow slog of life. Climbing step by arduous step, each one infinitely more painful than the one that came before.  Struggling, tottering, limping on scarred and blistered feet,  twisted ankles, hobbled knees, tripping, staggering, stumbling the hard scrabble mountain path.  From here on up, it’s downhill all the way...

I was fourteen, wiry, strong, with skin browned by a fiery sun.  Its rays beat down on my head in those humid summer fields where I slowly ‘walked the beans’.  Walking the beans meant pulling up the sticky, thorny Jimson weeds that grew wild among uncle Paul’s  perfectly furrowed rows of soy beans.  It was also known as Devil’s Snare and richly earned its evil name.  The work was…

A FaceTime conversation with Saoirse over breakfast this morning was sheer joy. We chatted about her plans for the day that includes what sounds like a fun play date with friends. We talked about having Spam and eggs for breakfast. She ate Spam in Hawaii but didn’t like it much. She had some hidden blueberries in her cereal, but no bananas because Momma has to go to the store…

I love Eric and Mark. I love the way they love each of you and the way they love the Village. I love the way they submit their lives to God and serve him with their whole heart. I love their wives and children who, along with them, are dedicated to the work of mission and ministry. Even little Saoirse, though only three, lights up my life with the…

Halcyon Days  Fresh peach ice cream slow frozen in Uncle Rich’s hand cranked churn.  Lightning bugs dancing around hollyhocks on a gentle summer eve.  The sweet aroma of fresh mown alfalfa wafting in from Mr. Vander Linden’s field.  Barn owls hooting softly as tiny field mice scamper off in every direction.  A million mile moon drifts across the sky between dim clouds and sparkling stars.  Dad whistles bits and…

A blog from my sister, Ruth Valencia. Her story of God’s goodness is a powerful read   On turning 60... I did not really know what to expect for my future. I had dreams, of course, just like everyone else, but I had cerebral palsy so I wondered if I would ever ride a trike and then a bike. I wondered if I would roller skate and jump rope, if…

I’ve very much appreciated Adrienne’s response to ‘writing prompts’. This is a poem I had hoped to offer at Art Night before circumstances conspired against my being able to attend. The poem was written in response to a prompt offered on an online writer’s gathering. The prompt was a picture of a path through interlaced trees creating a canopy. There was bright sunlight at the far end of the…