Truly he was alive in a way that few attain. Many aspire, but only sweat, tears, and blood yield this type of alive-ness. It wasn’t his choice to lay it all down at the feet of suffering. But he did choose, by the grace of God, to keep living. When I was “stuck” in Kenya,…Read more Alive, truly alive
healing
Room to Breathe
we wander moonlit cornfields in and out of shadows of living growing things taunting what we leave behind there is room to breathe here between the stalks in the stalks everything is breathing here and there is something large here larger than these fields flowing out in contoured rows so simple…Read more Room to Breathe
Summer Will Come
Ok, I’ll admit it. I’m enamored with a single dying weed. So far, it has inspired five paintings in as many months! Click the following links to view the paintings in their original blog entries: (left to right) Songs in the Valley, Reach, Always, Loving You Still. There’s something about it – the pathos as it…Read more Summer Will Come
Loving You Still
His laughter crackled like a campfire, trickled over dappled streams, whispered in aspen groves, twirled through mountain meadows, reverberated from ridge to ridge. His whole life, he laughed. His eyes twinkled when he laughed with me, as if he delighted in some secret wildflower field in my spirit I had yet to discover. Memories of those dancing eyes…Read more Loving You Still
Always – lament for a father taken too soon
On a balmy October afternoon, we gathered on a green slope saturated with sinking-sun amber light. Sentinel trees swayed in a swan dance of brilliant-hued Autumn. We clustered amidst names engraved in stone, contemplating the eternal promise of Scripture, swelling with tears to the last lingering notes of Amazing Grace. Each of us clutched a…Read more Always – lament for a father taken too soon
Songs in the Valley
“It doesn’t look as bad as it did yesterday,” my ever-honest 12 year old tried to encourage me. I asked my husband, “Is it really bad?” “I like some of your other pieces better,” he conceded. I gave it one last look, and shredded it. Every piece of artwork, for me, seems to pass through…Read more Songs in the Valley
Healing
In my heart I keep a safety vault for fossils: petrified wounds from the past. Bricks of self-protection mount an imposing barrier. As long as these hardened relics remain quarantined (even from myself), perhaps they can be kept from provoking further pain. But, what if there is another way? What if these fossils could be…Read more Healing
Colleen Briggs Images & Writing 