The Silence of Saturday


………………..for Easter’s waiting Saturday.

Originally posted on A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly:

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Do you hear the silence in the tomb—hard and lifeless—vacuous hopes of my heart buried in a borrowed grave with one who would save us?

Do you hear the silence in the streets where palms, faded and brittle, blow to the wadis by dry desert winds—blow along with our visions of an overcoming respite?

And the pain of that black moment has dissolved in my tears and loss, and we mourn for him, but probably more for ourselves—myself.

And in the weeping and the regularity of another’s day, a great silence fills and empties me of will and belief.  Behind my eyes, inside my head, the palpable quiet pushes out hope and in my hands where once we held his bread and wine, I hold despair, pressed down, dark, and bloody.

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Crucify Him


My song for Good Friday…………

Originally posted on A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly:

From 1979 I Am Blessed album--Myrrh Records

From 1979 I Am Blessed album–Myrrh Records

(The music starts 22 seconds in.)

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A Study in Chamomile

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To the Endless

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It’s fleeting.

We’ve always known—at least in one part of the brain—

but we are tempted to despair.

When that last breath hovers soft on the air, the passing life feels

more real somehow than just belief—but

at the same time like losing vision in strong light,

edges fading into luminescence with the sun’s set.

And it’s fleeting this dream we have lived.

We’ve always known it would end, but why did we live as if it would not,

putting off the greater for the moment

of the lesser.

And the fleeting mists gather for a last exhale,

an exhale of all the things we still cling to, a final surrender to the everlasting.

This was our once far-off hope, even a fearful hope;

and now it’s here.  Really real.

And the fleeting gives way to the endless, and it only hurts for those still left behind.


I Corinthians 15: 40- 44:  “There are bodies which exist in this world, and bodies which exist in heaven. These bodies are not, as it were, in competition; the splendour of an earthly body is quite a different thing from the splendour of a heavenly body. The sun, the moon and the stars all have their own particular splendour, while among the stars themselves there are different kinds of splendour.

These are illustrations here of the raising of the dead. The body is “sown” in corruption; it is raised beyond the reach of corruption. It is “sown” in dishonour; it is raised in splendour. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. As there is a natural body so will there be a spiritual body.”  (J.B. Phillips Translation)

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A rose is a rose is a rose is a . . . well, you get it.

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3:30 a.m. Really?

It was unnerving to have the police activity on our street on Saturday. It was more unnerving to realize by Sunday that the suspect had actually run through our yard and left his latex burglar gloves by the gate and that he broke off a sprinkler riser as he fled.

It was curious when the officers we called said they didn’t need the gloves as evidence. But when we called our sarg friend, he “encouraged” them to go get the evidence. Someone was to come by last night at 5 p.m. to pick up the gloves, but they didn’t show.

At 3:30 a.m. the dog started howling and barking. There was a police car out front, and I thought something else must be going on in the neighborhood because they surely could not be coming for the gloves. Adrenalin……………

They were there for the GLOVES!  At 3:30 in the morning!

As you might expect, I got hardly any sleep the rest of the night. Now I really do respect what officers do, potentially laying down their lives daily. But come on!

 Because you work the night shift does not mean that I do. Good grief! What has happened to my life?

The first of the story . . .

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More Descanso Candy–Low Cal

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Future Violators Will Be Thorned!

I know we were not the ones to be robbed, but I still can’t help but feel violated.  A robber suspect being chased by police hopped our back fence, then hopped our gate speeding off and breaking the sprinkler head to the drip system for our roses (I  need to plant more roses with bigger thorns!).  He doubled back through another neighbor’s yard but, from what I hear, was caught.

He left his black latex gloves by the gate as testimony to the fact that he had violated my space.  This is my bird place, my dog place, my grounding and roses place.  He ran right by the window where I was grading and creating.

Thankfully, I was alerted to danger by my trusty dog by my side who up to this time has only hated the ice cream guy with the irritating bell.  He is adding backyard intruders to his short list.

It is a spooky feeling to know that your safe space is tentative and at the mercy of possible violators.  But the adrenalin surge has subsided and I’m off to buy more roses and a Doberman.  My collie will love him.

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Muppets–The Next Generation

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Descanso Candy

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Spring at Descanso is good enough to eat!

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