So privileged to break through the "Covid barrier" again and witness God at work in Zimbabwe.... Imagine for just a moment: you are a newly widowed mother with nowhere to go. No income, no family support, no government social services. You re-locate to uninhabited land, build a mut hut, and eke out subsistence. Amidst the…Read more Seeing God in Zimbabwe
spiritual journey
When the Physical Expresses the Spiritual
Tonia Nifong and Evelyn Wyss, 40:31 Dance Collective of Colorado Springs, "Hide me in the cleft." I am currently intrigued by the idea of the physical body as a seed for our eternal being, as a tangible hint of transcendent truth. Through artistic studies, I'm ruminating: What if our visceral beings germinate in the soil…Read more When the Physical Expresses the Spiritual
Hope When the World is Deconstructing
Immortal Seeds, Fall; 2022; 19" x 23"; watercolor, ink, acrylic, graphite, chalk. In Autumn, the world deconstructs. Leaves whirl, trees bend, flowers wilt. Do I believe God sometimes rescues us, that God is able to change circumstances with a mere thought? Yes! Absolutely! And sometimes He does. But sometimes fall yields to winter, and nights…Read more Hope When the World is Deconstructing
Evening Song
Evening Song; 2021; 15.5" x 25.5"; watercolor, acrylic, pastel, chalk, graphite, ink. John 1:5, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome." There was a time not too long ago when the darkness hovered near. Chaotic world events and challenges all around leached me dry. I snuck away to a monastery for…Read more Evening Song
Hope in troubled times…
It's not that I'm ignoring the pain and chaos. No, I am not forgetting, but transcending....
When the End is Only the Beginning…
Generations; 2021; 17" x 21"; mixed media: watercolor, acrylic, graphite. Time and space bind our lives; we glimpse but a sliver of eternity. We begin, we live, we leave. Playing our part in an epic adventure, our perceptions are limited to our minute senses. But there is One who holds it all together: By Whom,…Read more When the End is Only the Beginning…
When A Thistle Matters
Lavender probes a rim of midnight blue, the tender touch of land and sky as daylight yields to night. I am ragged, like the thistle’s fringe, so insignificant in this vastness, yet reaching for the sinking sun. And the hem of a robe sweeps low, setting the sky on fire. Setting me on fire. Like…Read more When A Thistle Matters