by Emily Wierenga | Apr 25, 2012 | ann voskamp, children, cross, desert, giveaway, heart, imperfect prose on thursdays, Jesus, love, mother letters, motherhood, oasis, seth and amber haines
i hear it on the cat in the hat while i’m feeding the boys goldfish crackers. “if you want to find water in the desert, you have to look in the right places.”i pause, suddenly aware of how thirsty i am, and the cartoon character continues, “but... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 22, 2012 | belief, buds, emily dickinson, faith, family, flowers, God, heaven, hope, Jesus, katie davis, springtime, waiting
the birds have descended. flocking to fields filled with water, and when they rise their wings sound like hundreds of blankets being aired out in the breeze. they glint in the sun, these trumpet swans and mallards and pintail ducks and snowbirds, like guitar strings,... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 20, 2012 | anne of green gables, books, classics, feature posts, imperfect prose on thursdays, library, literature, purpose magazine, reading, treasure island, winnie the pooh
The smell of ancient paper still makes me want to sob, the way spines line up like soldiers on the wooden shelves of small-town libraries. I know they would defend me if they could, those armies of words. I will never understand the intrigue of a bookless library, of... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 18, 2012 | brian miller, death, God, grieving, imperfect prose on thursdays, life, loss, religion, students, virginia tech shooting, waystation one
Distraction. Pain. Confusion. Anxiety. Wave after wave, with no idea where it is coming from—I sit at my desk fighting it for what seems like hours but the clock tells me thirty minutes.’I am sorry. I have to leave. I can’t tell you why, because I... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 16, 2012 | canoeing, hope, hurting, Jesus, love, pain, return, river, salvation, spring, world
trent talks about the river like it’s an old friend. it’s pregnant with spring, and we’re canoeing its curves. joey and aiden and opa and trent, through the fields, heading home. we stop to portage over fallen trees and when joey isn’t talking,...