25 March 2005


I am writing this in a cafe, with the sound of conversation all around, some music in the background, the smell of food in the air. It is the early part of the evening on Good Friday. Outside the sweet springtime sun is reflecting for a few more moments on the buildings across the street. There is a light breeze playing in the tops of the palm trees. The air is warm and, yes, also this: Christ is in the tomb, planted like a seed in the ground...



Happy and holy Easter to us all. Peace be with you.

I'll see you on Monday.

24 March 2005


21 March 2005

Untitled III


17 March 2005


Light & Light

16 March 2005

Stopping To Give The Light A Chance To Shine

Sometimes it helps to have a really bright red stop sign to remind you.

15 March 2005



Untitled II


13 March 2005

Some Of The Good Things About This Weekend

These are some of the good things about this weekend. The world seemed beautiful around me. This sense seemed to press in on me more sharply than usual.

I will probably write sometime about the other things that happened this weekend that were not good things or easy. But for today and for this post, I will say only that tonight I am quiet and sad and waiting and hopeful and tired and, most of all, grateful for the friends that God has given me.

12 March 2005


10 March 2005

A Prayer

It's Lent. "How long, O Lord?" A little while. A few weeks, a few years -- we cannot tell. Easter is coming, though. May we not miss it.

Thanks to locustyears for saying it well.

08 March 2005

On Church: Relevance Is A Crock

I think relevance is a crock. I don't think people care a whole lot about what kind of music you have or how you shape the service. They want a place where God is taken seriously, where they're taken seriously, where there is no manipulation of their emotions or their consumer needs.

[W]e're involved with something that has a huge mystery to it. Are we going to wipe out all the mystery so we can be in control of it? Isn't reverence at the very heart of the worship of God?

And if we present a rendition of the faith in which all the mystery is removed, and there's no reverence, how are people ever going to know there's something more than just their own emotions, their own needs? There's something a lot bigger than my needs that's going on. How do I ever get to that if the church service and worship program is all centered on my needs?

-- Eugene Peterson, Spirituality For All the Wrong Reasons

Amen to that.

07 March 2005

Photo Of The Day III: Desert + Water + Sun

Thanks to Alex Chadwick for getting us over the hill.

Photo Of The Day II: In The Arms Of The Earth

What is usually the baked and waterless Lake Manly in Death Valley is now knee deep for miles in salty water. Along the shoreline, the hard-packed silt is warm in the sun and slightly moist which makes it seem like skin, almost alive, and which makes it very good for taking off your shoes and for lying beneath the bright sky.

Photo Of The Day: Sunset In The Panamint Range

I think I found a new Favorite Place In The World this weekend.

03 March 2005

Follows Winter

"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." [Romans 5:5]

From where I sit today, it seems true to me that we are almost always waiting for something. Sometimes the waiting is anticipatory, sometimes full of dread, sometimes a big dose of both. And then sometimes waiting is just waiting, without much feeling at all. And sometimes those are the good days.

And then there's hope which lies on the strong side of waiting because it is based in trust. Hope is better and richer than mere waiting. It is also better than optimism, which gets by turning a blind eye, which is likely to leave you stranded by the side of the road like cheap tires on a hot day when the going gets really rough.

Of course, the trust that feeds hope can be a slippery thing sometimes, especially when it has to do with things that are precious to you, like life and love and God. Sometimes you have to squeeze really tight to hold onto it.

But, fortunately for us, it's not all about us. Hope, when it comes down to it, is a gift of God, poured out on us in the form of love.

So today I am waiting, but I am also hopeful, because this morning I looked up and saw little pink flowers on the bare branches outside the window and felt something strong and sweet poured out into my heart.

You DO know what follows winter...don't you?