Blogs

Bet you thought the water fairies had finally taken me away. Bet you thought they'd given me their magical algae for breakfast so I could breath underwater and right now, I'm ducking through corral reefs and riding the backs of dolphins. Bet you thought that since, obviously, I couldn't use my computer underwater (it comes with a label--dangerous under water), that must be the reason I've been so silent.

Nope. 

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I'm up today at Tapestry, writing about the advent, with all its anticipation and waiting and hope. A taste:

"We'd crack the perforation on the Advent calendar to reveal the day's picture--a Nutcracker, perhaps, or a doll, or maybe a wise man preparing for his journey, depending on that year's theme. Or we'd break another link on our homemade chain made of red and green construction paper. As the chain shrunk, our excitement grew."

"God is waiting. Creation is waiting. Humankind is waiting. We are waiting for redemption, for everything to be put back in its proper place in relation to God. We see signs and shadows, aches and groans of what's to come, knowing that what we wait for is not here yet."

- from The Sacred Echo by Margaret Feinberg

"Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen."

- Third Sunday Advent Prayer from The Book of Common Prayers

I've been doing a lot of cartoons lately. Can you tell I've been spending time with my niece?

I have a history with Horton. As a child, I cried every time (literally) my parents read to me Horton Hatches an Egg. Poor Horton. Maize left him with her egg so she could go on vacation. And Horton sat, and he sat, and he sat. It rained, and it snowed. Still, Horton sat. All his friends left for a party. Still, Horton sat. Poor Horton. All alone.

It broke my heart.

Advent holds ideas of waiting, anticipation, peace, hope, incarnation, justice. I think of Mary, her hands rubbing her belly. I think of the shepherds, searching Bethlehem. I think of the wise men, following a star. All waiting.

In this podcast, I speak with Dr. Reg Grant, professor at Dallas Theological Seminary, published novelist, actor, and apparently tap-dancer. We discuss a healthy artistic life and the formation and transformation of the artist.

Since the beginning of my pursuit of publication, my husband's wanted me to consider self-publishing. He's an entrepeneur, you see. A businessman. He wants to find out how to make things work, how to get them in front of people in a way that best serves people.

I want to go through the process, I argued. I want to make sure it had other eyes on it to make it better.

We can pay people to do that, he said.

I'm up today at the Tapestry Blog continuing the conversation about contextual theology.

A taste:

I'm new to the horror genre, introduced to it by Michelle, my horror-writing friend and critique partner. I feared (yes, feared) horror stories in the past (and I still wouldn't touch Saw with a ten-foot stake), but I've learned that if it's a good story (and not filled with gory details that will fill my over-active imagination with nightmares), I enjoy a good horror story.