Habakkuk 2:3 For the vision is yet for the appointed time; It hastens toward the goal and it will not fail. Though it tarries, wait for it; For it will certainly come, it will not delay.
When Mugabe, thirty-plus-year year dictator of Zimbabwe, bulldozed neighborhoods who didn’t vote for him and committed other horrendous human rights abuses, my friends took international journalists to witness his crimes. And paid for it by ending up on the government hit list. L describes how she and her husband, a pastor, fell asleep at night…Read more Above All, Keep Your Heart Free
We feel the passion and delight of God, sailing clear channels. Then suddenly storms swirl, currents drag us under. Flung far from our intended destination, we wonder: has God forgotten what He said? Negated His promise? Sucked into the darkness, we survive day to day. The hopes and dreams of the past fade to a…Read more Wandering Home
Sometimes God gives us dreams. But, like a caged bird on our back, we carry them endless miles. The storms billow and the bird sleeps. Still we trudge through the years. But, if the promise was given, it will be kept. Place one foot in front of the other until at last the skies clear…Read more Carrying Dreams
As a kid, I was a bit of an anomaly. My grandfather created wood carvings, but, otherwise, I seemed to pop up out of nowhere - an artist born to an accountant and an engineer. An oddball, but never a misfit. My parents could not have been more supportive. My family moved to the countryside…Read more Days at the (Art) Museum
As I began to paint again, irresistibly drawn by "the stronger pull," an old theme re-surfaces. The idea that out of the fiercest flames of our lives, we are granted wings to fly high - and carry others with us. The Wings are Mine Dense winged creature clawing my chest - cawing over charred dreams,…Read more Out of Flames… Wings
For me, art is dialogue. A message sent out into the world, quivering in the space between two people. A word spoken, waiting for response. A spark extinguished if not received. After too many messages crumpled in the receivers’ hands, I stopped communicating—for me, it was a series of entering art exhibits and experiencing a…Read more The Fire of Creating