The Frail and Fallen

Do not pick up the frail and fallen unless you must. Give them the dignity of rising in what strength they have.

In Defense of Him…

This post is an attempt to set right a grievous wrong against an undeserved man.

The Sorrow and The Sweet

A small stop to walk, to unfurl my limbs and to unclench my heart. Inviting the sound of the waves and the strength of the wind to sweep away some of the sorrow and leave the sweet.

A “Wrong” Sum…

“A (wrong) sum can be put right: but only by going back til you find the error and working it afresh from that point, never by simply going on. Evil can be undone, but it cannot ‘develop’ into good. Time does not heal it. The spell must be unwound, bit by bit, ‘with backward mutters of dissevering power.” – CS Lewis

Do The Next Thing

On days when I am drenched in the trench… when the rain of ruin runs freely through the guts and gutters of life, I ascribe to the gospel of “Do The Next Thing.”

Wash the sheets, feed the children, walk the dog, mop the floor.

There is much mercy in the mundane.

In Praise of Him…

Love never stops wanting what is or what would have been best for the beloved… I love him deep. 

Love

Love is the only gift best given – when least deserved.

A Room of One’s Own

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” – Virginia Woolf

His Hands

He appears more peaceful dead than alive, funny, so am I.

A small smile had been set across his face; how benevolent in death, how malevolent in life. 

His hands look like clubs… there were. 

I reach, I must. 

I touch his cold, hard, huge hands that hammered warm, tender, small places.

Both of us dead. One of us breathing.