On Work and Fear: A Poem

fearless and fearful the day’s work lies before unsullied, shapeless, a void of possibilities. what will come of the brow’s sweat, what will the earth produce? and will it be today? some plunge ahead unafraid–or is it unawake– automatons unfeeling, cold as stone. is it for self-deception or for confidence’s sake can a heart be…

On Why I Write

What is your writing about? I was sitting down to coffee last week with my new friend, Dan. Dan is a career coach, a blogger, and a fellow Master of Divinity just trying to figure out what to do with his life and help others do the same. I like Dan because he is the…

On Quitting.

“I quit.” Those were the words I never thought I would say to my boss at the restaurant I worked for these past seven years. And I sure never thought I would be saying those words without a backup plan. But then again, life has a way of sneaking up behind you and surprising you.…

Everybody Has an Excuse

Lately it seems that every spare moment has been accounted for by streaming episodes of either Kitchen Nightmares or Restaurant Impossible. I don’t know, maybe after all these years waiting tables I have become a glutton for punishment in a way. And as long as I’m confessing to you, dear anonymous reader, I may as…

Some News and Some Rest

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. -John 10:10 Abundant life. I like the sound of that. A couple of months ago I was sitting down in-between shifts, checking my inbox, when I came across an email that I had been…

Stood Up By the Muse and Invited to Rest

Each December, it happens again. I find myself too weary to come up with the ideas and attention I need to summon up a coherent thought. When the time comes to pull up an empty document and have a good time, the muse stands me up. I suspect December has the same effect on most…

Three Reasons I am Thankful to Write

Two years ago today, I was sitting down to coffee and imagining what it would be like to start to trace out a couple of really really big ideas that had come to me through the pen of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. First, I wondered what it would look like to start pursuing the thought of a…

A Parable about a Moron

Once upon a time there was a man named Mike McMorris, who lived on the railroad tracks. Every morning when he left for work at the Smithboro factory for reflective dog collars, Mike would worry and wonder if his little house was in trouble. Sure enough, every evening at seven o’clock, when he got home,…