One is the loneliest number…until…

Half the battle, you know,
is in feeling alone

IMG_6296

until someone comes along and believes
in something
more than we can see

IMG_6297

in ourselves, the mirror a
dull reflection, a shadow of all the grace
in our lives unnoticed

IMG_6298

the hand of God a mystery until we look back and know
finally
we weren’t ever alone, that

IMG_6299

He was just stitching us up with the threads
of others,
miracles,
the whole
time.

IMG_6301

Then Sings My Soul is a story like that, of lives discouraged and full of hurt and questions and loneliness. But the story doesn’t end there. You won’t believe what happens to Jakob and his daughter, Nel. And you won’t believe what happens to you when you read their story, too.

Then Sings My Soul. Available now wherever your favorite place is to buy books.

*****

“He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

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
IMG_0033
pebbles balanced
precarious on top of time
teetering against the tides that
come in and go out again and
we’re left
DSC_0086
squinting at the sunset wondering
where did the day go
how did evening settle
upon our bones
wearied without warning
DSC_0022
and finally we step bare
footed on the sand and realize we are
each of us
a grain
DSC_0020

thoughts on the sunrise. a poem.

formless and afraid in the navy

night i found my shape once

again as the sun rose and pressed

the darkness from beneath

my skin and the outline of all

things became clear

*****

job

*****