More Dramatic

The sign at our new house being removed

The Miller family has left the compound.  We have been waiting three long, eventful and uh, “character building” years for this event.  It’s a long story with unexpected twists and fascinating characters.  It is not nearly over or nearly understood but the setting has changed dramatically.  Together we are thankful beyond explanation both to God for his provision and our friends and family for their support and very practical help.

Not So Little Details

I am so thankful every once in a while.

It should be more often, but when I am, I do not worry about that.

Because I am busy being thankful.

I am lost in the ideas before

And after the thankful comes.

Details are generous interrupters,

Reminders and awakers of my imagination.

I trip over their slow toes

As they dance in measured steps

In time with a loud heartbeat.

The smell of an old car that has served well and been appreciated.

Kisses softly on my wife’s throat while she waits.

Giggling children who are old too fast reminding.

The neighborhood hawk watching still on the wire for breakfast.

Last few beans bumping through the grinder by my hand.

That Brandon and Lulu at Golden Tusk know my 35a with six stars.

Heat finally under the dash and up my pant legs on a cold morning.

Freshly cleaned spectacles, warm and clear on my crooked nose.

That’s eight.

Good Things for a Bad Person?

It is a scary place, this spinning speck of dirt caught between the tide of heaven and hell.  When my imagination brings some meaning to the information my brain is collecting, I am so relieved to know I am saved from the terror.  It’s scary to know I am so close and it is so easy, so regular to end up drifting in ignorance, rebellion and abject stupidity into the abyss. 

I am at odds with my base desires when I soften to the strong, quiet affections of Jesus.  But, oh, it is a worthy effort to let go and rest in them.

Is FB Like Coffee?

My two favorite non-eternally significant arguments are over coffee and running.  People say to me, “I don’t like coffee,”  or they say, “I don’t like running.”My initial, knee jerk (emphasis on jerk although I think the phrase is really punny in context) is to say, “well, fine, I don’t like you.”  I realize this is just my insecurity showing itself and I can usually find other reasons to like people even with such glaring character flaws. 

There Will Always Be a Duck

My grandpa used to ask me, “What’s the difference between a duck?”  His bushy eyebrows would wiggle and his face would light up with the joy and mirth of this wonderfully terrible, incomprehensible joke.  I would say, “a duck and what?” with consternation and a hesitant contempt for this question.  I was never quite sure if I was missing something.  He always repeated the questions until I sighed, rolled my eyes and said, “I don’t know, what’s the difference between a duck?”  With fluent glee, he would nearly clap his hands and say,

Crappy World

I used to wake up late almost every morning. I would slowly swing my legs over the edge of the bed and moan quietly but with vengeance at the cruel world, “crap.” Every day while I pulled strands of my mullet out of the crusty drool on my cheek I would complain about my sad life that was just starting that day.

Carpentry with an Empty Head

I think I may be starting to feel better. Here and there, I find myself building things, small things with nothing in my head. Well, not nothing, just things bouncing around in there that should be in my head when I’m building something. Like where the mark (*crows foot) was in relationship to the mark on the tape, the line and where the inside edge of the carbide tip on the saw blade should hit.