Sandy Snippet


I’ve been reading a lot of my old novels lately- this is a story I started one year for NaNoWriMo. When I sat down to type all I had to go on was SAND. Not a bad little novel- if a bit strange in places!

‘My uncle had told me that our city was a copy of sand structures built by others, that sand itself was a copy.

“But who built it first?” I’d asked him.

“That’s sand’s greatest secret and finest mystery; the hand of the Creator. All the worlds are similar because the same Being molded them and called them to hold together. We’re stuck here in these worlds of ours. We’ve lessons to learn, and water, fire, air, and substance, these are just the tools we need to live until we understand what matters.”

“And sand points the way. We can travel the sand and build with it, but it won’t sustain us. It’s just a simple thing singing the song of the infinite. We must study the sand and remember whenever it forms into something beautiful, that this memory is meant to sift us down, finer and finer, until we discover the Source. Our minds catch a glimpse of beauty, other worlds we long to go to. Sand points the way, but without life and love, heat and warmth and substance, it would have no meaning. We aren’t meant to be mere grains of sand dissolving into an empty universe. We’re searching for that elusive memory inside us, the pathway that carries us away to the hand that shows us love.”


Heart Faith


Seeing a different sight, this dancer smiles away;

Red flowers hang over the cobblestone way;

She is like a vine breaking out like a stray;

Prancing where no one can see.

~    ~    ~

I think faith is like that, blue buildings in the back;

Constructs surround the emerging, sibliant act;

Like previous houses calling from the past;

But from their garrisons breaking free.

~    ~    ~

Folly, we are told, from the logical and the bold;

Dependency on a God who allows evil to unfold;

It’s not what eyes can see or the practical truth told;

So therefore to them, it mustn’t be.

~    ~    ~

Faith isn’t clear, nor does it always seem smart;

Spring up in the night and display flowery art;

Drawn from the inside and the kingdom of the heart;

Like the mystery flower inside of a seed.

~    ~    ~

That’s why joy and beauty can be found here;

Love meets desire, hope shouts in the balmy air;

God, His message says cling to love, and never fear;

No matter hardship, doubt or calamity.



Simple Joys


My sister has always been able to make me laugh. When I was almost eighteen and soon to move out of my mom’s house back in the late seventies I remember she called me into the kitchen one day. She had on her teacher face. There’s a method, she told me, to making orange juice from the concentrate tube. ‘Yeah’, I thought. ‘You get the squishy stuff out of the tube into the pitcher, add three of the tube containers of water, and stir it up.’

But no, that wasn’t the best method. I’m a bit of a slow learner so the only thing I remember from her lesson that day was that it involved the blender to get the orange juice frothy and that she was amusing me by the way she took it so seriously. I figured the flaw was with her and not me. She liked to complicate the simple joys of life, for I had a habit leftover from my childhood of licking off the last tasty trace of orange juice concentrate from the spoon before adding the water and I didn’t want to give it up.

So a year or so later I’m living in a two bedroom apartment in Seattle, not far from Seattle Pacific University. My roommate Gayle and I are hanging out in the kitchen and she says to me, “Vicky- I want to show you something,” and proceeds to teach me how to make orange juice from concentrate. My fixated  and amazed stare in her direction was no doubt gratifying, but meanwhile I was wondering, what is it about me that makes people think I can’t figure out how to make orange juice?

I told Gayle the story and we both laughed, a lot, over frothy glasses of juice. But a few days later, I kid you not, I get a letter in the  mail from my sister. It said this:

‘How to Make Orange Juice-‘

  1. Peel the plastic rip cord off of the tube container of orange juice and…

The funny thing is I still can’t remember any of their lessons on the subject. However I know for certain that this fellow’s method was not used. Ha ha, I love how he plunks down everything.

Poem About Our Marriage


Grow old with me, my dear friend said

And gray mixed in with a beard that was red

And middles grew with tummies well fed

And children were born and then were led

Through dreams of youth, and then put to bed


But I remember, I said


And through it all like a golden thread

Christ who suffered, died and bled,

Showed His love in a book well-read

And promised us Heaven, one day to tread.


That’s our future, I said

The Encouraging Word


The sleeping soul

and whispering dreams

wait for hardship to pass

in muggy streams.


So close your eyes

to this world’s pain

pretend a castle around you

and that youth remains.


Write stories of love found

and friendship and safe home

in these fantasy worlds

your characters are never alone.


Yet all the time you hide

hoping that life will make sense

You miss a great adventure

and the approach of the Prince.


New and Old and Sweet


Baby dear, from baby dear,

Slow life down to focus here,

The sound of little voices ring clear,

And tiny fingers cling.


Let go of other things,

Schedules and worries that sting,

Disappointments and endless wondering,

So sing, and soothe, the baby to hold.


With the child you’re never old,

Your smile is big and your laugh is bold,

Old stories translated and newly told,

Bring joy and love and trust.

The Hard Bits of Life


John 17:1 After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed:

“Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began.

    Perhaps its  because my daughter is about to go through labor or because I’ve been thinking of some of the hard things I’ve gone through during my life but this stood out to me today.

   Here is Jesus, about to go through the HARD PART. Here He reveals how He got through His huge and unique trial- and how He saved us.

   He looks back to when He was with the Father and forward to when He’ll be with the Father again. He prays, and God the Father is listening in avid attention. But still Jesus had His trial to get through. Here is His focus.

   Heaven is our real home. It’s the Shire for us hobbits, Kansas for Dorothy. It’s that place of safety we’d all like to get back to before the terrifying adventure began. We here on Earth haven’t seen the place yet. But it’s been strongly referred to, and alluded to in our hearts. We know it because the longing for it is buried deep. ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is within you’, what does that mean?

   The entrance to home is connection with God- with Jesus. He is knocking on that little doorway inside us. He is on the other side when we open it, even in prayer.

The enemy seems huge.


The distant wall of Heaven;

Beacons in the sun;

Hope and love are fresh air and light;

His hand the only one;
That can lead us home…