Worth A Thousand Pictures

Correct me if I'm wrong: In order for an ecosystem to be healthy, it must be diverse, with everything from redwoods to fungus. In order for a body to be healthy, it must be diverse. The leg and the pancreas are not interchangeable, nor are they easy to mix up. In order for a community to be healthy, it must be diverse. It needs teachers and children, doctors and politicians and somebody who doesn't mind driving the garbage truck. So far, so good? Then why, somebody tell me, is the diverse, multicoloured, varicultured Church necessarily unhealthy? The Northumberland area is blessed with churches that serve as centuries old shade trees, as flamboyant wild flowers and as wheat and fruit, sheltering people in need, modelling joy and exuberance and feeding the spirit and mind. Would we be better off with something that has all the eco-diversity of a putting green (and about as much personality)? Division and "war" come in with self-righteousness, self-importance and judgem...

This time, they found him by the river. He always came in the evening, just before the sun went down. Sometimes, they heard him first, moving through the brush and they’d follow the sound until they caught up. Sometimes, he’d sneak up behind them, surprising them and they’d begin their visit with laughing together. But often, he turned up by the river. Below the waterfall, where the grass was soft. Where he’d taught them to find clay and shape it, and to dry the reeds and weave them and to skip rocks and to swim. Tonight, he was sitting on the grass, his back against a tree, feet dangling in the water. His hands were working a lump of clay that he’d dug up from the bank and he smiled up at them as they came. The man and the woman sat down, too, he with his back to a sun-warmed rock, she beside him, leaning. “What would you like to talk about tonight?” asked the One, who was just The One. The man glanced at the woman and, when she shrugged, he said, “You could tell us the story again.” ...

We’re back. Back on the comfy side of the border. We spent a week and a half driving to Florida, having some fun and driving home. Bye bye palm trees, hello snow. Bye bye grits, hello plum sauce. Bye bye Waffle House, hello Tim. It was a lot of fun. Sort of my first experience with doing what normal people do on vacation. Winter sun, January sun screen, white sand and pelicans. Being amazed by things that others take for granted. While we were away, we had a chance to spend a day at what is billed as (probably truly) the happiest place on Earth. Had a great time. Went on one ride I should have skipped. Although, having actually had the experience, I’m wondering whether I may have eliminated a recurring nightmare. Time will tell. Family consensus is that the scariest ride was the one where you go boating on a serpentine path through endless rooms filled with frightening smiling animated dolls singing a happy-happy song over and over and over and over… Near the end we found ourselves in ...

Most of these pieces are things I've written when the mood struck me. Starting in March 2008, we started having a monthly Breakfast to augment our weekly Dinners at the Motel. Part of those Breakfasts has been a story that I write each month just for that occasion. I've been trying to follow some of the Beatitudes and to write about what they'd look like in the lives of real people.