Often the best way to tell a story, an adventure, is in the present tense. So, you will find some stories “in the rearview mirror”. Past events that have helped shape my present. Stories that are timeless and relatable. I hope they bring some tears, laughter, hope and encouragement to your journey.
“I don’t remember being on this road before.” Another half-hour drive and we decided to stay away from the major highways and enjoy some of the scenery. When we were kids the purpose of the trip was usually just to get there as quick as possible so we did very little...
The day dawned… a good way for any day to start. First I picked up my sister—she was ready and waiting—then on to our mum’s. Mum was a little distressed when we arrived. “I’ve been trying to phone Karen, but it’s not going through.” “Did you remember to dial...
Thankfully the car’s air-conditioning was fixed at the beginning of the summer because tomorrow—road trip! My sister, Karen, and I are taking our mum to visit her friend Kath. They’ve known each other for over fifty years, since before we emigrated from England....
Today I woke up and dressed to the accompaniment of an unknown bird’s “song.” It was not the happy or beautiful melody of a song bird. It was the repetitive one-note squawk of a bird who we might say is annoying. A noise that gets on your nerves after a while....
After several May days of blazing heat and humidity, today is nicely warm and fresh. I love this type of day. And today I’m feeling a little nostalgic… You see, my previous home has a screened-in deck at the back of the house. The view includes fields and a...
I was just thinking about this need inside me. Busy days are overfilled with demands of family and work and all the things that scream to be done. These everyday realities attempt to squelch this need. Yet it quietly ferments until it is ready to explode. So I...
It’s been a long couple of days. My thoughts have been overtaken by the events I witnessed on Friday.
The Romans are a brutal lot. Violence is common. But I just can’t get it out of my mind. What I saw. The man, Jesus, so battered and bruised and bloody. How can…
What happened? What was going on? Did he take a wrong turn? Go left instead of right at the fork? Did he get lost on the detour? How did he get here? Bruised, dirty and bloody in this dark, cold, lonely hell of a place!
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