Rain on dry dust. I remember walking barefooted down a dirt road as a kid in Arkansas, watching those first few drops strike the ground before me. The dust became blotched with dark blobs of wetness, and as more sprinkled down, my nostrils filled with the incredible rich smell of the earth beginning to drink. … More Inkspill No. 20: Rain on Dry Dust
What is the point of God’s grace? I mean, it means so many wonderful things that it would take a book as long as . . . well, as long as the Bible, to explain it all. But what’s the underlying point? The Big Cheese? The bit we can bite into and hang on until … More Inkspill No. 6: Feel Free to be Happy
My Dear, You have discovered (to your astonishment) that the good opinions of other people are not, in the end, what brings you happiness. How much grief you’ve caused yourself, attempting to explain your spirit to the world! For in doing so you inevitably alter the truth of it in an effort to win their … More Inkspill No. 5: To a Young Woman
I woke up this morning with a thought: the thing that makes me me is not my brain power, appearance, talents, or accomplishments. Which is good, because each of these has disappointed me at one time or another. No, I am defined by love for God and love for other people. The best thing about me … More Inkspill No. 4: Who am I, Again?
