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I look at the path that is in front of me, at the path that my feet are on.
The bridge, the path, is my business.
If my path is a bridge over a cavern, and I focus on the cavern, I may lose my step. If I focus on the bridge, I'll stay on the bridge.
My path is my own future, my own destiny.
I look at the path that is in front of me, at the path that my feet are on.
The bridge, the path, is my business.
If my path is a bridge over a cavern, and I focus on the cavern, I may lose my step. If I focus on the bridge, I'll stay on the bridge.
My path is my own future, my own destiny.
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Have you ever done battle with ants? I mean the kind of battle that takes place on domestic soil (ie: inside your house!).
I know I have, more than once.
(They didn't look like this - we all know what the little buggers look like. Besides, who'd want to click on a photo of real ants! Ick!)
I know I have, more than once.
(They didn't look like this - we all know what the little buggers look like. Besides, who'd want to click on a photo of real ants! Ick!)
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Wind is a mystery.
We don’t know where it comes from, or where it’s going. We can track its direction, but its origin and destination remain unknown.
We hear the sound of the trees as the wind rustles the treetops, then slows,
only to rustle them again,
like great breaths in … and great breaths out.
We don’t know where it comes from, or where it’s going. We can track its direction, but its origin and destination remain unknown.
We hear the sound of the trees as the wind rustles the treetops, then slows,
only to rustle them again,
like great breaths in … and great breaths out.
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Sometimes, I think that I think too much. I have conversations with myself in my head at the oddest times, like this little gem about words while mowing my lawn (cuz these two things are connected ... right?). Anyway, here we go ...
Me: Words matter; there is power in them.
They can bolster and encourage, or they can tear down and defeat.
Me: Words matter; there is power in them.
They can bolster and encourage, or they can tear down and defeat.
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Soap is soap .... and I got a boxful.
Ever come across something that just gets stuck in your craw? Yeah, me, too. Here's my latest ...
A website offering virtual social groups had a simple questionnaire to fill out so they could recommend the appropriate group for you. One question was in the form of a dropdown box; it asked me to select my life stage.
I do not think that means what they think it means ...
Ever come across something that just gets stuck in your craw? Yeah, me, too. Here's my latest ...
A website offering virtual social groups had a simple questionnaire to fill out so they could recommend the appropriate group for you. One question was in the form of a dropdown box; it asked me to select my life stage.
I do not think that means what they think it means ...
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Somewhere between the panic and the memes coming with the corona virus, I’m seeing some very good things.
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In an instant, my world was flipped upside down. Everything that was familiar –my purpose, my place in this world, my faith, even my identity – was suddenly and irrevocably stripped away from me.
Or, perhaps, it was I who had been stripped away from life as I knew it.
Or, perhaps, it was I who had been stripped away from life as I knew it.
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Gotta love spring time in Texas. All the rain greens everything right up. Trees start sprouting, bluebonnets come into full bloom, and the brown winter-worn lawns become a vibrant green – almost overnight! It’s time to get out the mower and keep that now fast-growing grass from getting out of control. Well, as soon as it stops raining …
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I’m not a music person. Well, not any more.
As a younger person, I had music playing within my hearing almost all the time – in my car, my bedroom, my living room stereo. Over the years my preferences changed but the music stayed on.
In recent years, it’s the lyrics more than the music that move me.
In church one Sunday, a particular section of a song stood out to me. It said
As a younger person, I had music playing within my hearing almost all the time – in my car, my bedroom, my living room stereo. Over the years my preferences changed but the music stayed on.
In recent years, it’s the lyrics more than the music that move me.
In church one Sunday, a particular section of a song stood out to me. It said
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I’ve been hearing this question recently, particularly since I’ve become an active participant in the writer community. It’s usually phrased a little more specifically – what writers inspire you. This is a hard one for me to answer because I’m not really a reader, never have been unless it was required of me by someone else.