LETTERS

Dear Winn – (does anybody really know what day it is?)

Dear Winn, I could have put a date stamp on this letter, but time has blurred on me, pal. I’ve lost track, seriously. Just the other day (maybe Wednesday? I’m not sure), I looked at the kitchen calendar multiple times throughout the day in an attempt to anchor myself, lash myself to the mast of…
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Dear Winn – 21 March 2020

Dear Winn, A strange dawning today, my friend. About a foot of snow fell on Thursday, that wet, heavy snow that lingers long. Everything this morning is flocked, quite christmassy. Plus, our neighboring town of Palmer Lake lit their “star” yesterday—a grand astralation of bright bulbs on the side of Sundance Mountain which you can…
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Dear Winn – 14 March 2020

Dear Winn, Well, they closed Disneyland. Freakin’ Disneyland. Impossible to bibbidi-bobbidi-boo this one, huh? I saw your announcement on social media that your church will cancel all gatherings for the next three weeks. Doing your part to flatten the curve. I like that, and wholeheartedly agree. It feels a sober response, and sobriety seems the…
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The Blue

The writer’s role is what it has always been: he is a custodian, a secretary…I have always felt charged with the safekeeping of all unexpected items of worldly or unworldly enchantment, as though I might be held personally responsible if even a small one were to be lost. ~E.B. White Over the last month or…
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These Days

Today is the first day of March and March is my birthday month (22nd day to be precise), so I told my wife this morning that if she thought about getting me anything for my birthday (which she usually does) then here’s a couple of ideas complete with plenty of time to get it right,…
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Ash Wednesday 2020

I told a friend earlier today that I was giving social media the big swollen middle finger for Lent, that I needed some quiet, and the hope that a clarity will rise. In the spaces where I might check Facebook or Instagram, I’ve chosen a couple of books to read—Kathleen Norris’ Amazing Grace and Pam…
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A Peach Tree Bloomed in Texas

Seven years ago, when I turned forty-five, my mother sent me a note card. On the front of the card, in her distinct cursive, she wrote – Just thought you’d like to know. Inside the card her cursive continued to spell out details of the time surrounding my birth. She wrote – Out on the…
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Good-bye

{A letter to our pastor as he leaves our congregation for another. “Shellie” died about a year ago.} Tyg, Of all the words about the spiritual life, or simply life for that matter, that I have witnessed to be true in my almost but not quite 52yrs now, these may be the truest. They come…
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The Advent Letters

Mornin’, Lord. I’m sorry I haven’t written in a handful of days. What with wrapping up work, and the kids all coming in, and trying to multiply figurative loaves and fish to buy literal gifts for everyone, well, I got sorta scrambled. As your servant and my friend, Brennan, used to say: “these things happen.”…
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The Advent Letters

Hi. It’s me again, Lord, We lit the second candle of Advent this morning at church. But you know that. I’m fairly sure that second candle represents some character or some theme of this season, but I can’t find a consensus and our pastors have veered a bit off-script this year, so I’m content to…
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