I once heard a speaker claim that one of the biggest problems with Christians was a lack of imagination. I don’t remember anymore who said it, or the topic of the speech it was used in. But that part stuck. A lack of imagination? Maybe other Christians! But me? Me!?! I’ve got a vivid imagination.… Continue reading The Problem with Christians
The old gray donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, ‘Why?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Wherefore?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Inasmuch as which?’- and sometimes he didn’t quite know what… Continue reading Loving Eeyore
How do you tell your new husband that the (relatively) sane woman he married is on leave and a weepy clinically depressed woman is moving in? How do you tell him that you’re not sure how long she’ll stick around, a day, a week, or a month, but last time she visited she really overstayed her… Continue reading My Love, the Darkness is Coming
“I turn women into perfect 10’s,” my cosmetology student boasted, sweeping his gaze down my form. The implication, of course, was that he could fix me up. Take me from my current rating, which whatever it was, certainly wasn’t a 10, to that elusive pinnacle of beauty that women crave. For a moment I didn’t… Continue reading A Perfect 10
I am Learning to pause and Force my mind to take stock of my body Taut shoulders, cast iron jaw, adrenaline fueled urgency, invariably discovering my right hand clenched at hip knotted up in a stony fist closed off grasping so tightly at nothing Muster courage to unfurl each finger conciously blooming ferns roll open my… Continue reading Release
A moth throwing herself against the porch light I am a witness to madness. Fluttering, desperate. Mesmerized by light. Slamming against glass barrier. You survey only beauty. Fragile, delicate. Dazzled by crystalline reflection from each tiny scale. Photo Credit: Fly, night’s Butterfly~ by Heeey Jenni on Flickr; used under Creative Commons License.
At 18, living alone in a new city, there was a day I decided to wear only red. The color would be my brand, my hallmark, my calling card. In a strange new place, where I was as of yet anonymous, I could choose to become anyone, anything. I chose red. I visited dozens of… Continue reading A Softer Shade of Red