by Emily Wierenga | Mar 13, 2013 | calvary, cross, crucifixion, Easter, imperfect prose on thursdays, Jesus, mary, mexico, pilgrimage, resurrection, savior, the passion of the Christ, virgin, wal-mart
Welcome to Imperfect Prose on Thursdays! Please feel free to link up your posts, below.”Sacrifice, Jesus’ Gift to Eve” by e. wierengaWe had a guest speaker on Sunday, and she was talking about Mexico, how only 2 percent of Mexico City believes in... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 23, 2012 | abandonment, black friday, cross, crucifixion, doubt, God, Jesus, love, prayer
kasher, when he was 3 months old, in a corn field.black friday happened last week for me. it happened on the bed in the office, on the patchwork quilt that my friend stitched for me. it happened in the rumpled form of a writer who was twisted up and crying out to a... 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 6, 2012 | brown skin, children, cross, Easter, Jesus, love, peace
My foster son is sitting at the white table, the little one I bought at Superstore. He’s coloring. “When I’m old, Jesus is going to make me a Fisher of Man,” says Joey. I listen from my laptop. “Like Opa, or Uncle Phil. Uncle Phil likes fishing.” Joey is new to church... by Emily Wierenga | Apr 1, 2012 | cross, death, disappointment, Easter, hope, Jesus, killed, Palm Sunday, sadness
Jesus was destined to disappoint.he says this from the pulpit, and i see her, the girl who sits in the front row with her mother. the girl with no hair and no leg, who’s lost everything to chemo, and yet, she’s in church.the children march in with palm... by Emily Wierenga | Jan 22, 2012 | boys, cross, deer, foster care, mother
these days we’re weak all around. we hug each other more than usual and cry a lot, and look at our children as though they have just discovered gold. they’re so beautiful, and we don’t want this to end. these days of sanctuary.soon there will be...