On the Hunt He has looked everywhere. He has looked in the heavens, in nature, in power, in relationships, in success, in symbols and dreams and stories and song. He will continue looking until he allows himself to be found.
Latest from Mining with a Feather
A Cord of Three Strands
A Cord of Three Strands At first they thought it was all about them, (an understandable mistake). And in fact, it IS about them but not ALL about them. They are secondary to what IT is about. They thought their commitment, their cares, concerns, worries, struggles, hopes, dreams, frustrations….(those things), could be…
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The Sacred Romance
On this Maunday Thursday, I am withholding my thoughts in service to these of John Eldrige’s from The Sacred Romance, “Being unable to defeat God through raw power, Satan’s legions decide to wound God as deeply as possible by stealing the love of his Beloved through seduction. And having “seduced them to his party,” to ravish them body and soul;…
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Take Note
Today is a day of skies denied, a day of skies restrained and waiting. A day the clouds confer and dance before a sun-caught moon. Most people are inside. Except for the man who scurries along pushing a wheelbarrow of pillows. He walks at a respectable clip. His hands are full so he asked me to take notes. This is…
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Broken Flowers and Bill Murray
I woke up thinking about broken flowers and the Bill Murray movie, “Broken Flowers”. When I woke I realized the broken flowers signified women. Obviously. A broken flower is an impossible thing. A flower is not glass. It thrives or dies. The broken flower puts in mind a tender thing varnished to protect its tender construction. Bill Murray was not…
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What We Risk When We Do Not Talk
I look at you. You look at me. I look at me looking at you. I think thoughts. Think words. Thoughts that fly about like litter. Words that stay small like seeds. Do I pick them up? Do I plant them? Is it already too late? The wind catches the unsaid from the wires of my mind. The furrowed soil…
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Good Question
It came into him life, it went out of him truth. It could have been otherwise. The life, his life was a given. without his life he would never have been born. But he was. He took in the life he was born into. He could have spat it out. He devoured it. He swallowed it all. The pain and…
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This is Not About My Real Life
This is not about my real life, the one I live on ordinary days. This is about that one, the one just around the corner. The corner I am continually peeking around. I am getting better at sneaking up on it. It does exist after all. It’s more than real it is alive. The reason I say it is not…
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What Happens When the Fireball in the Sky Lands in Your Dream?
What happens when the fireball in the sky lands in the middle of your dream and you have to listen to its flames? When you have to make sense of the blazing language that climbs up on your tongue and starts it wagging? I’ll tell you what happens, a light gets turned on. All those dark nights turn into summer….
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What stands in the way of prayer?
I think my difficulty in coming to Jesus in prayer, and when I say Jesus I mean also The Father and the Holy Spirit, has to do with mistaken identity. Not only my own but God’s identity is hidden from me. To give an almost comic example – and one I often reflect is the allegory taken from a short…
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