“Zechariah asked the angel, ‘How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.'”The angel said to him, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. AndContinueContinue reading “Advent Day Seven: Questioning Angels”
Category Archives: faith
Bad People Go to Hell and Other Parental Panic Moments
My lovely blue-eyed seven-year-old daughter giggled. “Bad people go to the devil when they die,” and my charming bow-tie and button-down-shirt wearing son giggled, too, “Yeah, but we’re going to heaven because of JESUS.” I stuttered and stammered, “Well, it’s true that Jesus saves us,” I said, “but I’m not sure about the devil. It’dContinueContinue reading “Bad People Go to Hell and Other Parental Panic Moments”
Tragedy and Faith
Every tragedy is like a defibrillator to faith, something that shocks my system and leaves me needing to work out the circuits all over again, to try to reconnect and return to a healthy rhythm. It resurrects the same doubts and questions about good and evil, faith and fear, that humankind has battled for all of time. Tragedy isContinueContinue reading “Tragedy and Faith”
Visiting Ghosts: Writing about the Past
One of my current writing projects is an essay (or longer something… book? eep.) about faith and identity. I can’t write about becoming a Christ follower without writing about an ex-boyfriend I dated for almost two years during college, a guy I expected to marry someday. It’s hard to go back to journals and memoriesContinueContinue reading “Visiting Ghosts: Writing about the Past”
What Chamomile and Honey Can’t Do
I’m pretty sure I’ve had a cold/sinus infection since December 1. It has backed off a little here and there as some kind of bacterial mercy move, but for the last two weeks (or something like that), it’s been no nonsense, in your face (and nose, and eyes, and ears, and chest), Die Hard withContinueContinue reading “What Chamomile and Honey Can’t Do”
Baby Spoons and the Crust
A lot of thought-provokers happened today during my 30-minute lunch break, and I can’t help but take a few minutes to reflect on them here before settling in with transcripts and info sheets and all of the other important tasks I have to do. Are kids you know picky about sandwich crusts? Lydia is. UnlessContinueContinue reading “Baby Spoons and the Crust”
Easter Saturdays
Easter Saturdays (tentative title because I stink at titles)Cars full of people split the swamp where my creek flows.They must not ponder, pause, stare at hollowed logs,branchless trunks and wonder about the end of winter,spring still a whisper in the trickle of cold water through the culvert.What does all this dying mean, this surrenderafter strivingContinueContinue reading “Easter Saturdays”
Stealing Ideas and Old French Language "Roots"
Dent-de-LionIn the words of a poet friend of mine, *poof!* So, I have a secret I need to spill. I rob Wikipedia, Google, and the Bible of all their good ideas. I am a thief. I admit it. This poem is a good example and an easy entrance into confession.First, I have been trying toContinueContinue reading “Stealing Ideas and Old French Language "Roots"”
Version 2 – A Voice in the Crowd at Capernaum
John 6What I really need to know is how the callousesblossomed on your fingers. I want to feelthe bristle of your beard on my cheek,place my hands around the feetof the man who feeds. You knowwhy I’ve come here: to make the impossiblebecome miraculous, to turn your vengeanceinto grace, to learn the difference between breadandContinueContinue reading “Version 2 – A Voice in the Crowd at Capernaum”
A Voice in the Crowd at Capernaum
John 6I have come up with a hundred reasons whyyou are unbelievable – you are, after all, just a sonof some carpenter, the illegitimate offspringof a teenage mother. I know where you’ve come from.Still I’m intrigued – I want to know moreabout the man who fed five thousand,his mysterious disappearance across the lakewithout a boatContinueContinue reading “A Voice in the Crowd at Capernaum”
Sarah Marie Wells 