In 1973 I arrived at seminary with an empty bucket. Indeed, when I married D I was already lugging it around. I thought marrying D would more than fill my empty bucket. I needed to be cherished. Read the rest of this entry »
I, Elouise, take you, D….
To love, honor and cherish….
Cherish is the word I use
To complain as in
You don’t have a clue
How to cherish me Read the rest of this entry »
~~~Zaida Pannell Swift (1894-1988)
California 1974. I’m in my second year of seminary. The telephone rings. It’s my mother, calling from Savannah, Georgia. Her voice sounds hesitant. She isn’t sure whether to tell me this or not. Read the rest of this entry »
~~Unchained Women! Unrecognized, under-rated power to change the subject
I’m on a public street. I’ve just witnessed brutality against two young women, not in real time but in my dream. Now, out of my dream, what to do next? I pull out my cell phone and call 911. Will anyone respond? This isn’t an upscale area.
I kneel beside the sobbing woman Read the rest of this entry »
I want life to follow my way, truth, my notions about how things are or should be. I’m not alone. My comments follow George MacDonald’s sonnets. Read the rest of this entry »
I love dreams because I get to rewrite the ending of those that trouble me. This dream troubles me.
Most difficult is seeing myself in Read the rest of this entry »
My family legacy
If not my inheritance
deposited in me a great Gift
The kind that kept on giving
Long after I drained the last drop
And tried to transform it
into a candlestick holder
now coated with hardened
layers of waxy tears
trickling down the
curve of my face Read the rest of this entry »
If I could make only one wish for the New Year, it’s that contempt and self-contempt would implode. Just wither up and die in the face of courage.
In the meantime, Read the rest of this entry »
Can we reason or debate our way to the truth about ourselves and God? George MacDonald doesn’t think so. My comments follow.
July 27
The love of thee will set all notions right.
Right save by love no thought can be or may;
Only love’s knowledge is the primal light.
Questions keep camp along love’s shining coast—
Challenge my love and would my entrance stay;
Across the buzzing, doubting, challenging host,
I rush to thee, and cling, and cry: Thou know’st.George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul
Augsburg Fortress Press 1994
Don’t blame the serpent
Don’t blame Eve
Don’t even blame the Devil
They didn’t make me do it
I lust after power
be it ever so humble
I lust for My Perfect World Read the rest of this entry »
