Masters of Fake Fruit

The swankier the store the more successful the fake foods in the kitchen section are at stimulating my rebellious salivary glands.

I’ve come to despise those artisans in plastics.

But I’m an artisan of my own sort, frequently surrounded by like kind. Our imitations are also good enough at first glance to fool, sadly, even ourselves, for a while.

Unlike masters in plastics whose creations outlast the lifespan of that which they imitate, ours tend to be an anemic companion to their counterpart. But as originals have come to rarity, the imitations, particularly good ones, are trendy enough to pass, for a while. But to what end?

What is this communion?

In my childhood a peer of mine posed a question to me like a sphinx on a road.

If you were in the middle of a conversation with someone and God told you to pray, would you:

A) Continue your conversation, ignoring the impulse, likely telling yourself you would pray later.
B) Wrap up your conversation and go somewhere private to pray.
C) Stop immediately and pray.

I answered ‘B’ and within the hour I paid the price for that incorrect response. The answer is C. Today I again challenge myself and possibly others – the answer is, stop immediately and pray.

What is this privileged communion?

This glorious incredulous option
Bowing my will, my motive, my care
Wise and essential abasement that sets my soul to flight
Communing with unspeakable Power
Encapsulated, if that were the plausible descript, in love
Words unneeded, true presence suffice
Sound and sometimes sight of hidden things of God
Faith to follow
Spirit provoked guttural impulses
Spurring many a blind obedience
What is this communion?
Sustenance, life, breath, water... all

Contemplating 'in'

I’m contemplating ‘in’. Dwelling in, abiding in… Christ’s love, Christ’s sacrifice… Christ, and my mind turns to the pool as I consider a tangible object lesson to reinforce my thoughts. Perhaps today would be the day for a swim. No one is at the pool. It’s peaceful, bright and beautiful. I set my two books, Bible and journal down and head up to my room to change. I hastily prepare and scold myself for not putting on sunscreen and I hear the Lord speak to my mind ‘you will not need it’. A pitter-patter is bouncing against my window unit. I head to the main stairwell only to realize the sky outside has ripped open and rain is violently assaulting everything unsheltered. A Jesuit seems transfixed in the stairwell looking out the window as if in an instant he has seen nature itself change without transition. And then I realize… my books! I bolt down the remaining three flights of stairs and sprint through the torrents to the pool spreading my towel as I come as if to cover my books before I get to them. In one movement I scoop them into my arms and fling the door to the pool's restroom open. As I gawk at them wide-eyed I can't help but laugh outloud as I futilely attempt to dry them off, their pages each one forever altered by the impact of the rain.

The object lesson echoes into me. Each time I read this Bible, I know I will not easily forget. I put my sopping wet books aside and dive into the pool. As I come to the surface the deluge turns to sprinkle and dissipates completely. No more than ten minutes had I been gone, the storm possibly only half of that time, and now a distilled quietness as the rain that watered the earth waters my soul.

To dive deeply into abiding in Christ is not solely an action of human will. In His omnipresence and power there is nothing that He does not cover, nothing that He does not wash that we might also think to dwell within. He rejoices in our choice of Him and pours Himself out not only where we seek Him and anticipate He might be contained but over everything we could possibly know and do. This is my uncontainable God.


Recorded on a Silent Retreat at a Jesuit facilitated Spirituality Center in May 2010.

Photo from the very peaceful island of Kauai last summer.

An answer to my fear

Just as the wasp or bee navigates through the blades of grass yet has the ability to fly through the open air without obstacle, so the Lord will safely guide me through the thinkings of men without clipping from me the divine wings with which I fly.

Let not fear of falling away from Him cripple my obedience to Him. Trust Him, abide, obey. If I fall, then I fall. He can lift me up if He sees fit. For I know He watches me, and I know He loves me.

Lord, let me not be deceived.

Prayer of Longing

You meet us where we are, communicate in ways we look for you, in ways we understand your message. You speak in parables to which we relate. And how blessed we are that you do, or we might never find you.

But I no longer want you to speak my language. How I long for you to teach me yours. Do not come Lord to where I am, rather call me to where you are. Let me walk with you, not you with me unless there is no other way.

The Story of Glory and Shima

We don’t really know their full story. We only met them 2 years ago. Elijah and I had just finished a work-out at ETBU and I hadn’t quite made it to the car before 4 pairs of adorable eyes, 4 wagging tails and 16 big puppy feet paraded themselves right into my heart. Elijah caught us together after I’d shared my water bottle down to the last drop and no questions were to be asked at that point; they were coming home for a proper dinner. It wasn’t long before 2 of the 4 sisters joined another family as people ogled over them every time they passed by our house. The new puppies brought the neighborhood alive for us which had been all too distant since our move to Marshall 2 months prior. The Lord had brought them at just the right season.

As a small tribute to Africa, we decided to use Swahili to name one of the dogs. I called her ‘Honor’, thus Heshima, or Shima for short, joined the family. Her sister Glory, called Gloria by our neighbors to this day, tied the bow on our home at 902 North Franklin Street. Though not in the sort we might have originally imagined, the Lord had given us twins who made us wonder those first couple of weeks if we were sane to think we could raise children. While the girls don’t, in all honesty, embody their names' potential, it wasn’t a month before we could legitimately call them our Comfort and our Joy!

There is a time for everything… a time to gather… a time to scatter. The seasons change.

Perhaps ironically as Elijah and I look forward to moving ourselves onto ETBU’s campus for the Faculty in Residence program, it is now time to part with some of our earliest ETBU gifts.

I wanted to introduce them to you, for you see, our girls still need a home and just like we don’t know the beginning of their story, as the Lord moves His pieces around, yes even dogs, I can embrace that He cared for them before us and will after us… Perhaps you’ll be part of the story.

Smiling on the Left: Glory, 61 lbs; Right: Shima, 49 lbs
Birthdays: ~ May 2009
Both spayed and up to date on vaccines and preventative meds

Calculated Upheaval

Moving has a way of burning down the dross
Several think we’re nuts and calculate a loss
Fact: unnecessary stuff exacts a greater cost
I’ve learned to have a loosened grip; anything can be tossed


How often does one married couple get to move?

1. Adam’s Bend Apts, Temple, TX – 1 ½ years (by U-Haul to)
2. Rain Tree Apts, Temple, TX – 6 months (plane)
3. Old Town (dorm), Edinburgh, Scotland – 5 months (car)
4. Abbeyhill (flat), Edinburgh, Scotland – 7 months (bus & cab)
5. Gorgie (Apts), Edinburgh, Scotland – 9 months (walking & car)
6. Slateford (house), Edinburgh, Scotland – 3 months (van)
7. Morningside (house), Edinburgh, Scotland – 10 months
(train & plane)
8. Dallas (parents’ house!), Garland, TX – 2 years (U-Haul)
9. N. Franklin, Marshall (house), Marshall, TX – 2 years (...)
10. University Apartments, East Texas Baptist University,
Marshall, TX – ETA TBA later this summer

It’s our 10th move in just less than 9 years & I’m excited!
Counting down the days!