A Contemplative Life

Seven of eight hens, as one was being camera shy. More about the chickens at the end of this post. While I've placed several excerpts of On Being Brave within this blog, now the end is nearing, so no spoilers. In part for myself, because if I change my mind and drastically alter a chapter, though usually I don't, I also don't need that recorded here. This novel, which wasn't meant to be a novel, carries great hope and some darker undertones. And sometimes it's tricky keeping my head above the rollicking waves, assured of my own safety. I don't write dark fiction. I do write tense, emotionally charged scenes. I write deaths, I write deep loss. But overall a Happily Ever After triumphs because that aligns to my core beliefs. A week or two ago the Sunday reading was about Peter walking on water to meet Christ, standing on the lake. Peter was doing just fine until he took his eyes from Jesus, then promptly began to sink. Jesus hauled him up, and the main takeaway i...

Hearts hand-quilted during this summer, including one from last night. I'm not posting an excerpt, merely wishing to get my head around a piece of writing, all seventeen chapters of it, that kinda emerged outta the blue, or the gray, as today along the North Coast it's seriously MARINE LAYER DAY. Like the marine layer is super-peeved at unceremoniously being shoved aside in recent weeks for plenteous sunshine and is asserting itself in a You Can't Touch Me sort of way. I could giggle at that marine layer, which won't last forever as it's already close to Mid-August, but this isn't a Where has summer gone? post. This is a How many antidotes are necessary? entry, as again I write a chapter littered with spiritual references and emotional upheaval. I have a post waiting, entitled The message of reconciliation . It's based on a line in an aged hymn, Praise My Soul, the King of Heaven , which like many ancient hymns is merely the first line of the lyrics. ...

Hearts along the edge sewn last night, including different colours of the same print, lol. Some people have trouble with the word blessed . It conjures a false sense of living, it conjures the hypocrisy of America's current government, it conjures anguish for pain suffered at the hands of those espousing religious sentiment or judgement. I understand it's a difficult word for some people in this moment of history. However, I'd be remiss not to use it for how it applies to my manner of living in Christ's expansive and inclusive love. If that offends, I apologize, but I also ask you to hear me out. And if you can't or don't wish to hear me out, I sincerely wish you a peaceful day. Okay, so I was going to make sausage/carrot chili this afternoon, but my goodness last night's Warm Hearted Quilt stitching did a real number on my relatively feeling good right shoulder. Sigh. I recently had a biopsy on a very small red spot on my arm, and the wound care requires Va...

Hens in the garden; the Broody hen condo, also known as the dog run, is to the upper left of the photo, taken on 17 March 2026.  Ruthie Chicken is again broody. She spent the morning in the Broody Hen condo, then was good to be outside for a few hours. She took a twenty-five minute dustbath, not that I'm keeping tabs on her, but I am, lol. She's still laying eggs, so until she either 1) Stops laying or 2) Stops being broody we are allowing her time in the nesting boxes. She prefers box #1, but will use box #3 if #1 is taken. Today is Palm Sunday. Holy Week begins tomorrow. Those are sentences; the meanings behind them are significant to me. I have several Scripture readings for the upcoming days, time to ponder all that Holy Week entails. Today Christ entered Jerusalem as victorious.  By Thursday he's celebrating Passover with the disciples, fully aware that Judas will betray him before the day ends. What does this mean for us today? A man's death, violent and cruel. Fo...

New mug rug. Fabrics are those I'm considering for the quilt explained below.... At times, this life feels, seems, looks UNFATHOMABLE. Regardless of how faithful we are to a creed, how at peace hearts remain in abject misery, how unshakeable love dwells within us, and despite the FULL SUN we're seeing here on the North Coast, the tyranny and horror and anguish and death suffered by others hits our chest muscles like we are right in the thick of all that darkness. I'm not merely thinking of what's happening in America, or the oncoming winter storm that will cause severe distress for millions in my home nation. There's Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, Iran.... Massacres in Iran have quelled the protests for now. Yet thousands, perhaps upwards of thirty-three thousand, have died in one government's attempt to throttle democracy. Scores more have perished in other places, I don't wish to diminish those atrocities. But this uprising in Iran is a month old, or it was. And ot...

Which is kind of irrelevant, but my husband and I chatted about it yesterday, how the holidays were officially over, although tomorrow is Epiphany. After tomorrow, I'll put away the nativity sets and few random Christmas baubles. Christmas placemats, coasters, etc, have been landing in the laundry, then are tucked away. For all the December hub-bub, the trinkets seem irrelevant once New Year's is passed. Yet.... A deeper flame burns in my heart, a renewed pulse of my faith, of Christ, of a life lived not for self. Of a wisdom that makes no sense in what the world views as success, what I read about last night in 1 Corinthians 1:1-25. And in reading aloud a chapter from Nothing More Complicated: The Hawk Book Four , I am reminded how the horrors of this world are recycled time and again because we as a human race can't seem to grasp that love matters most. Not power or money or whatever seems to churn the engines of governments. This time last year I was swamped by last-min...