Dog days are suppose to be reserved for the summer, but I feel them in my heart in the gray, windy, last gasps of Midwestern winter. Dog days of winter. When the wind still bites at the tips of noses and fingers. Before the sun has returned in glory to the sky. Before the warmth…
Category: Wilderness
Wow, Maple Trees
In our house, bedtime prayers follow Anne Lamott’s essentials: “Help. Thanks. Wow.” It’s not because this is the best or only way to pray, but for us it takes a very abstract practice into a lived liturgy. Help. Thanks. Wow. Some days, we can manage that. However, we usually begin with thanks. On a good…
Wild Worms
In my calendar, it is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent begins as an explicitly earthy church day. Christians, sometimes after a day of Mardi Gras/Fat Tuesday pancakes and doughnuts, launch the season of Lent with a reminder that our stories are intimately connected to the dirt. “Remember you are dust and to dust…
Wild Sparrows 