I Am An Alchemist

Psst . . . Would you harness all your extra energetic atoms and come close in here for a moment? I want to tell you a special little something . . . For 32 years I've been walking around the sun and with every turn about the calendar I've learned that I'm unfurling into more of who I was born to be; discovering dots, connecting threads, sketching ideas, chasing the Spirit around all the places so I can ask him all the questions all the time - just for the joy of scribbling what I hear on the scratchpad [ read more... ]

When A Cross-Dresser Meets An Off-Key Kumbayah

I quit all service-related activities this past summer when I burned out. And I haven't been back at them since. But the thing is, when you go too long with your heart-values being unrequited, something different---but equally damaging---happens: your heart starts to choke on your own values because they just keep sitting there, stacking up inside you. Until they come so high you can nearly taste them crawling inch by inch up the back of your throat, suffocating you for their need to be [ read more... ]

Wherein Parenting Takes An Unorthodox Turn

It was a Wednesday and I stopped and dropped in the middle of putting clean sheets on my bed because the weight of my mundane world crashed in a heap upon my shoulders and the tonnage of it propelled a forward bend, palms pressed open against the mattress, back arched like a bow and the heaviness of my head hanging careless between my shoulder blades. I told my Father that I was certain that He had made a mistake and that surely having three boys AND homeschooling them . . . plus this, that and the [ read more... ]

Adoption: An EPIC Update

The 200-year-old wood floor is unyielding beneath my bent legs; I'm writing this one from my knees, neck and fingers arched low and right now I have the kind of body that makes big Spirit-noise. Listen . . . God has something in His sleeve and thread by thread He's pulling that sleeve back and the small amounts of His skin being revealed chokes me up and falls me down. Soon we're going to see the whole cosmic arm stretched before us and behind us and moving earth with giant sweeping motions to [ read more... ]

Roger And Our Dirty Skin

I would love to show you a photo of old Roger so you could see what I see: that he's just the most beautiful. His leather-like face is thickly etched with time-lines, his hair is unhygienic, lousy . . . his skin wears pockmarks and blackheads like some woman wear pearls and polka dots. He doesn't have any top teeth that I can see beyond his overgrown mustache and whew! if he doesn't smell like an unwashed decade. He wears baggy velour track pants, three jackets, scars across his heart and no [ read more... ]