To Do or Be Every morning the first thing I do before my feet slide onto my fluffy rug is talk with God. I ask for help and acknowledge God's goodness to me. I recognize the sound of grinding coffee and pat my dog on his easy chair on the way to the kitchen. Yes, … Continue reading To Do Or To Be
“If you don’t have something nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.” My grandmother sowed seeds of wisdom and in spite of the weeds choking my teenage heart, some have grown deep in the fertile soil that God has watered in my heart. I teetered on my tiptoes as I peeked over … Continue reading Seeds
“Ms. Skarin, you know you are odd, no I guess a better word for that would be unique.” The slender figure of the counselor in the chair across from mine shifted as she folded her arms gently.. She had dark brown hair and kind eyes. I stared at her blankly as I often did when … Continue reading Who Am I?
Zinsser wrote, In Writing Well, chapter 5, “I’m talking about two different issues. One is craft, the other is attitude. The first is a question of mastering a precise skill. The second is a question of how you use that skill to express your personality.” Craft is something I’m in constant learning mode, some mastered … Continue reading The Audience
I grew up in a fundamentalist religious group in Canada until I turned ten and our family moved to Los Angeles. Our world in Canada was all white with a “Truman Show” atmosphere. I experienced a traumatic culture shock after we moved. I didn’t stand out as being different in our sheltered prairie town but … Continue reading Catastrophic Suffering
Sand tickles bare feet; Sand shifts; I tip sideways; arms fling wide. Waves crash; waves suck in sand; I brace my body, I brace its watermelon-shaped abdomen. Waves pull me under; I gurgle---spit saltiness. Waves tumble me-over-and-over; I gasp! Help Pandemic. What's new? Masks, social-distancing, senior store hours, gloves, wash hands, repeat. Online classes, online … Continue reading What Do I Miss (pre-pandemic) An Allegory
The Jesus I knew as a child was part of my Truman Show world; set in the prairies of Alberta Canada. I was four years old when we moved there in 1953. I remember very little about the "outside" world. Our family of five, lived in a college town that had a campus and dorms as its … Continue reading I’ve got my own version to tell
Last night the toothless old oppressor of souls, a.k.a, the "Tempter", the "Liar", tried to speak his lies into my tired mind. He wasn’t even sneaky like he usually is. He did a full on gut sucker punch. He had me to the mat counting down...one...two...three. I struggled to my feet and faced off. I … Continue reading Grace As I Sit Here