Browsing Category: Journal Pages

        I didn’t get stuck in mud on a hillside—though I nearly did three times.  I nearly ran out of gas—before the funeral time—but fuel was delivered to the field.         And so I ran.           I did not go the funeral where I knew that I should be.     […]

        It doesn’t look like I’ll make it to the funeral.  I’m not sure how I feel about it—or maybe I do but don’t like what it says.         I know the fields are running.  I know that we’re behind.  But what are a couple hours with respect to a life in full?     […]

        Busy work.         I resent it with my life—because that is the cost.  Be purposeful, work purposeful.  If there is no purpose to the labor beyond staying on a clock, or killing time—go live life.  You don’t get it back, and there is nothing good for the soul in wasting time and life […]

               My grandfather turns ninety-two today.  We have him over for dinner.  He always says, in his age, he doesn’t much anymore.  Maybe that’s something one comes to say when one doesn’t eat as they once did; when one’s company, life-partner—and cook—are passed and meals are made more plain and common and mostly for one’s […]

        My mind is tired.  I sit on the porch in the evening time.  Thoughts don’t form.  Nothing clears.  Nothing focuses.           Sometimes,  this too is prayer—when without words or thought, we quiet enough to finally listen.         And so I do.         Miracle.         Through wall, my son plays […]

        I failed.           I failed yesterday to finish a field—I buried the planter in mud after dark with forty acres left in ground that was dry “on top.”         I failed to make it to the start of my son’s baseball game for his he and his team […]

               I hit fly balls to my son in our backyard.  I don’t know how many I’ve hit or how many I have in me.                 He could run them down and catch and throw them back all day.  He would if he could.                He sprints.  He dives.  He lays out.  He catches most, […]