Laurie Klein, Scribe

immerse in God, emerge refreshed

The Other Side of Goodbye

by 8 Chiming In

ACT I:  Send-off

vertical garden revA family like a garden—life-giving, even in loss.

But so tired. Wearied to their roots.

Today the Bradford clan celebrates the life of 42-year-old Emily Grace. Parents, siblings, and kin fill the front row.

From where I sit they look like flowers. Heads bow as blossoms will, after a downpour.

They wear pink, yellow, jade and navy and August green. There are strokes of black like the richest soil.

Staging the public goodbye depletes a family’s energies. It strip-mines their emotional marrow, their spiritual DNA.

And what of the mourners? [Read more…]

Fire and Rain

by 20 Chiming In

Where there is smoke . . .

Ghosting flames

Skies thicken with ash. It’s hard to see and harder to breathe. Windows closed, we pray for rain. Light candles.

Fires are ravaging Western states. Videos on the news appall us.

We pray for firefighters, military support, and volunteers. I’m told 30,000+ workers are battling flames as I write this post. More will join them before you read it.

Prayers rise for families. For homes and farms and dreams. For wilderness and places of business.

An overnight wind scours local air. But for how long?

Grateful, I open windows and see a sparrow bathing, inches away.

Sparrow in the Birdbath

Such delicate yet athletic sounds, the tiny ker-plop of immersion and wet abandon.

Small feathers slough water the way I want to shed fear.

Our home is surrounded by fields of stubble and towering pines oozing pitch: Fire Bait. [Read more…]

Learn to Sing out on a Limb

by 14 Chiming In

I should have packed better clothes for the conference. Everyone else looked so . . . classic. Even the tables outshone me, gleaming with pristine linens, the flicker of candles. Luscious peonies.

perfect peony

With a raised hand, our keynoter invoked silence. Then, with an almost double-dog-dare-ya glint in her eye, she invited us out on a limb. She asked us to hear God speak to each of us, personally . . . in the stillness.

Oh, the pressure. Chairs creaked as we uncrossed our legs, settled our clothing. Eased back.

I felt shy, but so hopeful. [Read more…]

Zoom

by 2 Chiming In

butterfly legsButterfly Riff #2:

Six jointed legs, fine as an eyelash, taste with their feet, prick the skin of the wrist, hunting sweetness.

You forget how old your open hand looks, how lined with stories, can only marvel that you’ve been sampled, tattooed by wonder.

And so you welcome the sting of Beauty: wild, arresting. Evanescent.

I will show them my wonders . . . (Micah 7:15)

For more on this subject, click Exposed to Truth, Its Beautiful Sting