Friday, January 16, 2026 The City on a Hill

Long ago, a simpleton named Simon was walking along a dusty, deserted road and saw a small city up ahead on a hill. The entrance was at the highest part of the hill, so it was a bit of a slog to get there. But Simon needed a place to stay for the night and it was the only town in sight.

At last, Simon saw the city gates. Two women, identical twins, stood at the entrance. They called out simultaneously, “Whoever is simple, turn in here!” It was odd – their voices saying the same thing should have had a pleasing unity, but instead the sound was discordant. The one on the left beckoned to Simon, saying, “Don’t listen to my sister. She will only tell you lies.” The one on the right laughed and replied, “The liar accuses me of lying.” Turning to Simon she said, “Listen and think for yourself, esteemed visitor.”

The one on the left spoke again. “There are two doors into this city. We are the doorkeepers. You may only enter by one door, mine or my sister’s. Pay heed, for the wrong choice will bring you much sorrow.”

Simon asked, “How will I know which door to enter?”

The twin on the right answered, “You must listen to our invitations. It is not complicated. My sister is already trying to frighten you, but I can tell that you are not the kind of person to be easily frightened.”

The woman on the left addressed Simon, “You are simple, you lack understanding, but I can help you. Won’t you listen to me?”

Simon the simpleton was a little put off by being called simple and without understanding (there’s a reason he was known as a simpleton, after all.)

The woman on the right called out, “Sister, you said a true word there. This fellow is simple, he lacks understanding. But he’s also clearly more attuned to my voice than yours.” To him, she said, “Come closer and I will tell you what you want to hear.”

But Simon decided he should listen to both invitations to be fair. He turned to the left and gestured for her to begin.

“I have prepared a meal for you, the best meat is on my plate, roasted to perfection. See what bread I have baked. It is made from golden grains that drank sunshine all the day long. I have wine for you to drink, mixed with fruit and spices. It is a meal that will satisfy you and give you life.”

It is a good speech, one that Simon wished he could have paid complete attention to, but while she was speaking, her twin was banging on old pots and making a clamor. Still, he got enough to know that the invitation was to a meal, and it reminded him that he was very hungry. He turned to the right to hear the other invitation.

“My sister wants to fill you up with her simple food. Don’t you know that it’s cruel to kill animals to eat their meat? How could you possibly enjoy that? Doesn’t wine dull your senses? Be careful – there’s trickery on her plate! And where’s the excitement in such fare as she has to offer? She thinks to satisfy you with wine, but I know of a well that has the clearest, purest water which is only fit for kings. It would be simplicity itself for you and I to steal some of that, and the thrill of stealing it would make it sweeter than wine. As for bread…”

And here she gestured for Simon to come closer, whereupon she whispered in his ear. “I have bread that is best eaten in secret, if you know what I mean.” A broad wink and a smile accompanied that last part and Simon flushed with pleasure.

Ah, what a choice. Each sister had spoken to Simon’s simple heart. There was something in the invitation from the right, however, that had begun to entice Simon’s mind and fill his senses. Almost without thinking, he began to walk toward her door, but at the last moment, he looked over to the other sister and saw a look on her face that stopped him. There was light, love and compassion shining from her eyes. Simon was completely undone and suddenly aware that he had been guilty of the most preposterous foolishness.

The sister on the right began her clamor with banging on pots again, but it was too late. Simon walked toward the door on the left and asked, “Might I know your name, fair lady?”

“You may. I am called Wisdom and my sister is Folly. Had you entered her door, you would have joined the company of the dead in hell. Go through my door where your days will be multiplied and years of life will be added to you.” She held the door open for him.

Simon accepted the invitation and walked into the light.

Proverbs Chapter 9

This simple post will be deleted in the morning.

Tuesday, December 9, 2025 Commonplace Book: A Lovely Light

Unwrapped gifts are stacked in a corner, while unkempt rolls of wrapping paper lounge carelessly on the couch. The two groups are destined to meet. And soon.

But you didn’t come here for my pithy observations. Let’s attend to the business of reading this week’s quotes in my book.

Christians have nothing to be smug about;
we are not righteous people trying to correct the unrighteous.
Just one beggar telling another beggar
where to find bread.
R.C. Sproul

And if you don’t know where to find the bread of life, crack open that dusty old Bible that lies forgotten on your shelf, turn to the Gospel of John chapter 6, and commence eating.

It was only a sunny smile
and little it cost in giving,
but like morning light
it scattered the night
and made the day worth living.
F. Scott Fitzgerald

The power of a sunny smile to vanquish the darkness in somebody else’s day.

We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.
Madeleine L’Engle

Ponder that one for a minute or so with me.

Cultivate the holy habit
of seeing the hand of God
in everything that happens to you.
Arthur W. Pink

Cultivating is a work of hoes, dirt, sweat and calluses. But in the end, ah, what a garden you have.

Be thankful for the thorns and thistles
which keep you from being in love with this world.
Charles Spurgeon

I’ll probably loudly discredit this post in the morning.

Tuesday, November 11, 2025 Quote Round-up: Drink It Up

Here we are again, meeting over some thought-provoking quotes that I’ve been copying in my Commonplace Book. May you find encouragement along the way.

If God has made your cup sweet,
Drink it with grace;
If He has made it bitter,
Drink it in communion with Him.

Oswald Chambers

(Stock photo, not one of mine)

God is good all the time. All the time, God is good. Drink it up.

If anything crosses your will,
see in it a chance to die.

Amy Carmichael

You can tell that these saints of old knew what it was to face affliction. May we follow in their train.

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But oh! The things I learned from her,
When Sorrow walked with me.
Robert Browning Hamilton

The book Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard is an old favorite of mine. The main character, Much-Afraid, is given two companions on her journey to the High Places, Sorrow and Suffering. She recoils from them and dreads taking their hands at first, but soon comes to appreciate their companionship. This little poem recalled that to my mind.

And to end on a lighter note, here’s a quote from John Adams that is all too apropos even all these years later:

In my many years I have come to a conclusion that
one useless man is a shame,
two is a law firm,
and three or more is a congress.
John Adams

Ha ha! That’s what you call a trenchant observation!

Driving across Wyoming at sunset

One useless post is a shame that should be deleted in the morning.

Monday, October 20, 2025 The Secret Life of Lynniebee

Have you ever seen the 2013 movie “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty”? Walter Mitty is a single man in his early 40’s living an uneventful life in which he takes few risks. This is what he is on the outside, but his inner life is rich with stories in which he jumps off a bridge to save a dog from a burning building, or in which he is a rugged explorer in arctic regions, or again in which he responds with wit, action, and bravery when he is bullied by his new boss at Life Magazine. This secret life of his causes him to zone out from his real life, as he gets caught up in these fantasies which demonstrate the kind of person he would like to be. Things happen that propel Walter to start living a life of risk-taking and adventure, but no spoilers from me. We’ve watched this movie so many times – it never gets old. Highly recommend!

In a certain sense we all have secret lives, the realm of our thought lives. And what a strange world it can be sometimes. I have been known to zone out with people while entertaining some sort of inner story or conversation. Like Walter Mitty, I also sometimes envision vignettes in which I am helping someone, making myself notable in some way to others, i.e. creating images that we call “delusions of grandeur.” In the secret life of Lynniebee, I am calm, confident and articulate when faced with an adversarial conversation. In the secret life of Lynniebee, I share the gospel easily and effectively with others.

But also in the secret life of Lynniebee, I am prone to creating whole scenarios out of my anxieties and dwelling on them as if they were real. I’ve been known to blow a health issue so far out of proportion that I’ve imagined my own funeral. In the secret life of Lynniebee, I am always justified when I’m angry. My thought life can become like a stampeding herd of dangerous cattle, out of control. What can you do when your inner life has gone wild?

There’s a reason why we are told to take every thought captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ. The apostle Paul tells us exactly how to corral these wild beasts and tame them. “Finally brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence or anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on those things.” Philippians 4:8. I have learned to get a lasso out whenever I detect an impending stampede. The first lasso I throw out is always the question “Is it true?” You wouldn’t believe how many wild things I’ve taken captive with that one question. But all those other considerations make good lassos too.

The secret life of Lynniebee isn’t a secret to God. One of my favorite verses is “Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way.” Psalm 139:23-24. He knows me. He knows my heart. He knows my anxious thoughts. And in spite of all that, He loves me enough to root out those things that are hurtful and then lead me in the everlasting way.

Thanks be to God!

I’ll probably pick some banana peppers and delete this in the morning.

Monday, September 22, 2025 Senescence



The grass withers,
The flower fades…
But the word of our God
Stands forever.
Isaiah 40:8

Perhaps that’s what we should ponder when autumn comes to carry summer away. There is an ache in the senescence of the garden, but it was never meant to last forever.

God’s word is a flower that never fades. It is a green grass that never withers. Such is our hope.

I’ll probably delete this senescent post in the morning.

Tuesday, May 27, 2025 Sowing Light

“Light is sown for the righteous,
And gladness for the upright in heart.”
Psalm 97:11

I read that recently and was struck by it. If light is a seed that is sown for us, what will be the plant? What will be the flower? What will be the fruit? I love the picture of God sowing seeds of light for us, especially knowing that ultimately the Lamb of God is our light, replacing the sun and the moon (Revelation 21:23). “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.” (John 1:4).

And He also sows gladness for us. There will be a harvest of gladness, no matter how many trials afflict our gardens.

It also occurs to me what an interesting analogy this is. Seeds that are sown are buried first. Sown things must die in darkness in order to flourish and grow in the light. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain. (John12:24.

Jesus is the light that was sown for us, who died in dark soil that we may enjoy the harvest of His everlasting light.

Things to ponder, musings to mull over…

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Tuesday, May 20, 2025 Provenance and Providence

This bunny cup was given to me when I was born. At some point in my adult life, my mother gave it to me, and it has stayed in the shadows for all these years. Not in literal shadows, but the fact of its existence has never prompted any thought in my brain whatsoever. Clearly I’ve been packing it and moving it with us when we’ve moved, right? It’s been on a shelf collecting dust which I have not even bothered to clean.

Our daughter is expecting a baby, their first, and when I realized I’d be able to go to the baby shower, I was looking around for something old of mine to give her, in addition to other things. The bunny cup waved a metaphorical hand to get my attention and just like that, I saw it. How charming! I looked on the bottom of it and saw that it was signed “B ‘58.” No longer a random kitschy item, this had true provenance. I could tell by the signature that the bunny cup had been lovingly painted for me by one of my two aunts, both of whom had names beginning with the letter B. Which one? I couldn’t tell, but decided it had to have been the older “B,” since I knew she was the artsy type.

I cleaned it off and gift-wrapped it, preparing it for its new home out West. On the way out there, I got an unexpected email from one of my cousins, a son of the younger “B.” He attached several photos of his mother’s pottery, a topic we’d apparently touched on at some point and which I had forgotten. Lo and behold, there it was, her signature on the bottom of several pieces, the very same signature that was on the bunny cup. A small thing, but this was True Providence. Here was an item I hadn’t thought about or cared about for decades and almost the very minute I began wondering who made it for me, the answer came in an unprompted email. Some would see this as an unremarkable coincidence, but I see it as a kindness of the Lord’s, an attention to little details. What I put in the shadows, He brings to light.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, if I can find it among the shadows.

Monday, March 31, 2025 Sitting on The Garden Bench

When you have a summery day in March
You sit on your garden bench,
Even though dry stalks and faded glories
Are the only things left in it.

A distant train whistle sings,
The faithful owl keeps watch
(I am amazed that no one stole it
Over the long winter – hooray!)

The spring-warm sun greets my face
Bringing on fit of sneezing (does that happen to others?).
Once – twice – thrice…I think I’m done.
I wish those killdeer that I hear would come visit.

I brought four books out to read,
Which seems like an absurdly optimistic pile.
Instead I sit, watch, listen,
And hope there are wisps of poems in the breeze.

This morning I was chased and harassed
By a goblin named Anxiety
Until finally I knelt by my bedside
To hash it out with the Lord.

Be anxious for nothing…
Let your requests be made known to God.
I told Him everything – really, I did!
The goblin stood by to remind me what I was anxious about.

It was a revolving door there for awhile:
Anxiety out, peace in; peace out, anxiety in.
But I just kept taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ
Until that old goblin slunk away in disgrace.

Hours later, I’m out under a fresh blue sky
In this Hallelujah Garden
Where God’s greening up the earth
And banishing the goblins of the morning.





I’ve been reading a book of poetry by Billy Collins and thought I’d take a stab at his style of conversational poems.

I’ll probably banish this hob-bloggin in the morning.

Thursday, March 27, 2025 Sharpen

A post from almost exactly 7 years ago:

March 28, 2018 Sharpen

There’s no getting around it – when you sharpen a pencil, some of the good stuff has to go. It seems wasteful, but it’s part of the cost of getting a sharp point with which to draw and color (notice how I avoided leaving a dangling preposition there, and do likewise). It’s interesting how so many things have to be sharpened to be at their best: knives, arrows, scissors, people… Yes, I did that – I added people to the mix. As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another, said the Preacher. Being sharpened usually doesn’t feel good, but it equips us to be better tools for God’s service. Put me up against that whetstone; sharpen me like a pencil. The stuff that grinds off or peels away isn’t essential and I’m better off without it. Give me a nice, sharp point and set me loose.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Monday, March 10, 2025 Rest Vs. Distractions

Our pastor said something yesterday in the sermon that caught my attention and my imagination: we should not equate our amusements and entertainments with true rest. For example, if we’ve completed our day’s work and sit down to reward ourselves with some time on social media, play some games, watch a fun show, read an undemanding novel, we tend to think of those things as taking a well-earned rest. There’s nothing necessarily sinful about doing any of those things within bounds, but this is not rest. As our pastor said, “Sin makes us restless; the heart corrupts our desire for rest and seeks amusement instead.” What he said next really caught me: “Rest is when you can face the hard questions of life.”

I’ve been turning that over in my mind quite a bit since hearing it. Perhaps when we are truly at rest, we are not distracting ourselves from important matters but are giving thought to them, which could take the form of journaling, talking to someone else, praying, reading the Word, reading books that encourage and edify us in those matters, etc. We talk about the Sabbath Day as being a day of rest from our regular labors; it’s challenging to think that we’re not just resting “from” something, we’re also resting “for” something. And the kind of rest our pastor was talking about isn’t something that we would do only on Sundays.

When I was walking more regularly, I was inspired by the poet Mary Oliver to use it as a time to think and observe, rather than a time to listen to podcasts, audiobooks or music. There’s something about giving my mind space to think that is restful in and of itself. It’s also where creativity happens.

Lately, I’ve been doing too much “doom scrolling” on Instagram. It’s amusing, entertaining and sometimes interesting, but after 30 minutes of it, I can’t really say it’s restful. It feels more like I just wasted 30 minutes of my time. Distractions, indeed.

Well, that’s what I’ve been musing about today. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Blessed be the Lord who daily loads us with benefits…

Honeybee slippers for Lynniebee

Snow, snow, snow!

Warm weather to melt aforementioned snow

Good books

Sunrises and sunsets

Quiet evenings

Washing machines and dishwashers

I’ll probably amuse and distract myself before deleting this in the morning.

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