Late last week I felt like a dry well. Not sure what I wanted to write next for the blog. I decided Read the rest of this entry »
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4 NIV)
George MacDonald’s December sonnets echo preoccupation with weariness, death, and his longing to be reunited with God and with his children. George and Louisa MacDonald had 11 children, four of whom preceded them in death. Read the rest of this entry »
December. Time to feel eagerly impatient. Eager to escape the weariness, the heaviness of waiting to be set free. To discover new life that’s been incubating all these years. Surely you’ve been there, too? Or are? I am. Read the rest of this entry »
‘Tis the season to be jolly, right? It all depends. George MacDonald’s opening line for his December sonnets describes a state in which I find myself these days:
I am a little weary of my life….
He inquires about his weariness. Perhaps it’s from something that’s meant to be.
Shall fruit be blamed if it hang wearily
A day before it perfected drop plumb
To the sad earth from off its nursing tree? Read the rest of this entry »
Alas! The second half of George MacDonald’s sonnet is as tough as the first. When I first read it years ago, it sounded like 100% Bad News. Especially for me. Read the rest of this entry »
Years ago I fell in love. Not with a man, but with his writings. George MacDonald and I share at least this: He too was deeply connected to the church and struggled with depression. In addition, he was a Scottish pastor, sometimes at odds with his church. He died believing himself to be a failure. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 