The 60-Second Sabbath

survival

  • The Wounded Child

    Somewhere in the woodsa wounded child wanders.His survival dependson your kindness and compassion.     Can you find him in time? He's a good child,a boy whose heart has great capacityfor joy and trust,for delight and laughter,but now he hides… Continue reading

  • The Burning Bush

    I am the burning bush,engulfed in flame,but not consumed. I am the burning bush,scorched by cruel circumstance,but not destroyed. I am the burning bush,charred by soul-lost longing,but not devoured. I am the burning bush,beckoning in the desert sun,God's voice, unheeded.… Continue reading

  • On to Celebration

    Now is the time for celebration–yes, we have experienced loss,but we are not diminished. We have joined unsteady handsand pulled each other through. If not stronger, we are wiser,having found life in death,hope in sadness,God in one another. Yes,now it… Continue reading

  • Power Outage

    Day four without power. Thank God for firewoodand bottled water…even for Spam(don't bother about expiration dates)and  final slices of breadspread with strawberry jam. Thank God for blanketsand that awful day-glow orange afghancrocheted by my mother decades ago,that goes with nothingand… Continue reading

  • Rheumatoid Arthritis

    On a scale of 0ne to ten,his pain hovers at eight. "Why complain." It's not a question;it's a statement. Even his partner can forgethis love's daily struggle for normalcy. The only logical option?Carry on.  Self-pity denies life,and life is what… Continue reading

  • Too Much

    If I said to you,"Life is too much for me,"how would you respond? Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • The Game, Part 2

    I was tackled;no one said there would be tackling.I was chased down the field;no one said I'd be running scared.I swung bats at imaginary balls;"Whose side am I on?" I cried. "Life!""Work!""Relationships!" Something wooden whacked the back of my head.I… Continue reading

  • A Mild Panic

    Daylight filters through the blinds,and with it, a mild panic–    another day of challenges I'm ill equipped to face,    another day of disguises to don,    another day of unrehearsed roles to play,    another day of moods to muster. It's called:Doing my job. And I… Continue reading

  • Why I Write

    I don't expect to be understood.I write because I must.I write because writing leads me to what lies beyond.I write to survive.Writing connects me with what is holy, eternal and true. How do you connect with what is holy, eternal… Continue reading

  • When I Was a Child

    When I was a childI spoke like a child    and had to eat my peas.But now that I've grownI want it be known    I eat just what I please. Don't be alarmedI mean no harm;    I just… Continue reading