bare footed on the sand. a poem.

My second novel, Then Sings My Soul, released in stores and online yesterday. The story is about a man at the end of his life and his daughter struggling to care for him, the two of them also struggling to make sense of the pain and shame in their lives. There’s a lot happening over on my Facebook page surrounding the release, including reviews and articles and such. So today, here on my blog, I thought I’d just share a few simple thoughts in a poem about the themes in this story, a story for anyone looking for hope in the midst of hard stuff, as well as wondering where is God in the midst of our stories.

On a related note, you might also want to catch might my new article in MTL Magazine about the plight of the aging and why it matters.

*****

What’s a life
anyway, besides a
skip, a stone smoothed
by the waters until
someone picks it up
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pebbles balanced
precarious on top of time
teetering against the tides that
come in and go out again and
we’re left
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squinting at the sunset wondering
where did the day go
how did evening settle
upon our bones
wearied without warning
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and finally we step bare
footed on the sand and realize we are
each of us
a grain
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Empty earthquakes.

Do you ever want to hold your hands over your ears and make the noise go away?

Or maybe you prefer the loud beat of drums and the tremble of the ground as guitars and harmonies blend towards the heavens.

But lately I can’t find Him there.

In the noise.

And so I seek a whisper

Soft and warm on my

weary

ears.

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What’s it like to be a writer with a day job? On healing, nursing, and words.

I brushed a clump of gray, wiry hair back from Mary’s warm forehead.

We’d been strangers at 7 a.m. that morning, when my nursing shift began. And now I was sharing her most intimate moment with her and her daughter as Mary took her last breath. I placed my stethoscope on her still chest and listened for a few moments, nodded to her daughter, offered a rote line of sympathy, then left the room…

See what happens next over at Christian Fiction Online Magazine, where I’m grateful to be writing today about being an author by night, and a nurse by day.

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