tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-98673182012-02-10T09:45:01.778-08:00<img align="right"height="100"width="150"src="http://www.shannonwoodward.com/j0178460.jpg"> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;~ <i>A place for writers and thinkers</i> ~<br><p>Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.comBlogger4201100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-74122515471725019072010-11-19T09:21:00.000-08:002010-11-19T09:25:13.384-08:00

I'll still post to Wind Scraps whenever the right post idea presents itself to me, but these days I'm hanging out regularly at my new site, Twig and Feather. This is where I'm posting my favorite recipes, craft ideas, and homemaking tips. I hope you'll come by and say hello!

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-36449402023759877702010-10-01T19:21:00.000-07:002010-10-01T19:37:04.864-07:00

I made a big batch of this for our women's retreat last weekend and have had a few requests for the recipe. Here's a post I wrote four years ago on an August morning when I had a hankering:You start, of course, with a giant bowl of oats.I don't mean "quick cook" oats, either. Those worthless flakes pose no challenge to teeth; they offer no satisfaction. Regular oats. Giant bowl.In a

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-75813283757399014372010-09-08T08:29:00.000-07:002010-09-08T08:53:54.315-07:00

"It is a moment of light surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-45725821443761013082010-09-01T15:50:00.000-07:002010-09-01T15:54:20.954-07:00

Someone passed on the word that I love my animals ... a mysterious someone named Mike. So I received notice today that Wind Scraps had been given an award. Here's what they said: "A visitor named Mike submitted your website for our website award and he had some nice things to say about your organization.Our team reviewed your site and found it to promote the ethical treatment of animals as well

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-2824305051507710772010-08-01T06:53:00.000-07:002010-08-01T06:58:03.881-07:00

Here's a snapshot of July from a few years ago ..."Well, life on the farm is kinda laid baaaaack!"Really? Let's see now. How has my week gone ...Two of our goats, Bambi and Jimmy, had a touch of something or other. Dave gave them a wormer and I gave them two doses of penicillin. It occurs to me now that I'm the family injector. Dave doesn't say, "I need to give the goats (insert: cat, dog ...

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-69739225335430667772010-07-23T12:30:00.000-07:002010-07-23T12:54:08.680-07:00

I thought it might be funny, when I was about five, to lock myself in the bathroom while having my bath and not answer my mother's insistent knocking and yelling. Who knows why we do these things? That was, I believe, my first practical joke. Rough, yes--and not terribly well thought out. But we have to start somewhere. I remember lying in that tepid water holding my hand over my mouth so my

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-77228267179769842872010-05-29T09:40:00.000-07:002010-05-29T09:43:15.197-07:00

I spent yesterday with two of my very favorite short people. They're now four, but I remember when they first arrived ...Mark and Taryn's twins are only a month old, and already I have a favorite. It's whichever one I find myself holding.Wednesday night, I held Duncan. We stared at each other all during worship. I don't know what he was thinking during that time; I was marveling at how much he'd

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-82528856740907292612010-05-07T09:22:00.000-07:002010-05-07T09:23:10.433-07:00

Tera was cleaning her room not long ago and came downstairs with a bag full of recycling stuff. I almost had her take the bag out and distribute it herself, but at the last minute, I took a peek. And there, tucked behind an empty juice can and a rumpled piece of cardboard, I found my treasures: 21 Kismet score sheets.Kismet is a step up from Yahtzee, in case you don't know. The dice in Kismet are

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-68867151580961633592010-03-08T17:13:00.000-08:002010-03-08T17:14:34.171-08:00

"Can you make mine 'olky?" Tera asks.She's standing behind me, so she doesn't see my smile."I like 'olky eggs," she adds, for good measure.When will I tell her that eggs have yolks, and not 'olks? Never. Someone else will have to spill the beans, because I cannot bring myself to correct that word.I couldn't correct Zac, either, when he used to refer to his "forkhead." It was just too cute. Sure,

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-82361820026823793002010-02-22T11:33:00.000-08:002010-02-22T12:00:12.604-08:00

I've been reading a lot of Dietrich Bonhoeffer lately, and I find his thoughts about "cheap grace" to be both timely and much-needed in the church today. It's popular right now to talk about our "freedom in Christ," but so often that phrase is merely a convenient smoke screen behind which people hide so that they can indulge in their secret (or not-so-secret) sin. How we need to get back to one

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-55838636989376887002010-02-19T08:23:00.000-08:002010-02-19T08:23:00.250-08:00

Tonight, 20/20 will air an updated report on Hannah. Please watch! And then, please pray.Emma wouldn't let me hold her, at first.She let me stare at her. She smiled for this picture. She even tolerated the touch of my fingers running through her irresistible curls. But when I reached to take her from Noreen and she found herself in strange arms, she cried.Maybe she'd felt the weight of my gaze

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-12713762169448030282010-02-18T14:28:00.000-08:002010-02-18T14:28:00.084-08:00

The body of Christ is a beautiful thing.I saw glimpses of that beauty in Texas -- testimonies that stood in sharp contrast to the dark injustice of Hannah's ordeal.From the beginning, Pastor Rod and Noreen Carver, along with several other couples, did the dance of court-ordered guardianship for the Overton children. Larry and Hannah--then out on bail awaiting trial--were not allowed to be alone

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-83153539512840262742010-02-18T05:26:00.000-08:002010-02-18T05:26:00.185-08:00

A little knowledge can paralyze you.In one of our early conversations about the retreat, Noreen had shared the story of one of the women in their fellowship--a woman named Linda whose daughter had been murdered five years earlier. I could relate to that situation because we'd gone through that ourselves, and at nearly the same time.Then, just a few days before I left for Texas, Noreen told me

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-83919233838586559832010-02-17T21:25:00.000-08:002010-02-17T21:25:00.438-08:00

After the first session, I came back to my room and found this picture waiting for me in my inbox. My cousin, Tracy Willms, had sent it to me--a memento from my visit last September.That reunion was 26 years in the making. Though much time had passed and we'd walked very different paths, when he called me out of the blue one morning last April, we talked for three hours and caught up on key

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-43623939311408109652010-02-17T05:06:00.000-08:002010-02-17T05:06:00.120-08:00

Pretty much the moment Noreen and I settled on the retreat theme, months earlier, my internal debate began. I remember ending that phone call thinking, How do you speak for four hours on the subject of joy to a roomful of grieving women? They need joy, the optimist in me said.But you can't push them there, the pessimist argued.Would my illustrations be insensitive? Would my admonitions be too

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-44819275676889441052010-02-16T05:02:00.000-08:002010-02-16T05:02:00.054-08:00

The plan had been to grab a latte after dinner before heading to the resort. I have to point out here that Corpus Christi, population 300,000, has two, count 'em, two Starbucks ... whereas my little town of 30,000, situated as it is in the shadow of Seattle (otherwise known as the birthplace of Starbucks), has nine. For a time, we had ten, but that was back when someone thought it would be wise

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-77067384072153123502010-02-15T11:54:00.000-08:002010-02-15T11:53:37.386-08:00

This Friday, February 19th, ABC will run an updated profile on Hannah Overton on 20/20. This woman means a great deal to a great many of us. I hope you'll watch this week ... and I hope you'll pray. Here's part one of a series I wrote after visiting with Hannah's church family, husband and children two years ago: I've traveled to many places and spoken to many groups of women, but I've never

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-60913192443365188262009-11-07T15:20:00.000-08:002009-11-07T15:29:35.696-08:00

It would appear that I'm not satisfied spilling all my deep thoughts here and on Facebook. Now I'm also twittering ... or is it tweeting? Here's a link to my page:Let me know if you're twittering/tweeting too.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-68209604064848345662009-10-12T23:21:00.000-07:002009-10-14T13:08:59.906-07:00

Craig is a small, small town in northern Colorado; a place with an abundance of taxidermists, gun shops and liquor stores, but not too many churches. It's a town where the stores have names like the "Loaf 'n Jug," the "Kum & Go," and the now-defunct "Cork 'n Bottle," which was once owned, not too long ago, by my stepfather. And that's the last time I'm going to use the phrase "stepfather" in this

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-37808513617193545102009-10-10T23:52:00.000-07:002009-10-11T09:48:07.073-07:00

I'm in Craig, Colorado right now trying to find a way to say good-bye to a man I've loved for 41 years. How does one do that? I don't yet know. But here's a glimpse into why he means so much to me.Apparently, all Oklahomans fish. It's not an optional activity. Even new, gangly-legged transplants are expected to pole-up and do their part. Shortly after our move from my home state to his, my new

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-74043548996507515882009-09-26T15:22:00.000-07:002009-09-26T17:01:49.580-07:00

If this day could be condensed into a few brief, bright flashes; if I could gather a handful of September sun-warmed vignettes and put them in a memory box marked "today," here's what I'd tuck inside:--a flock of white homing pigeons that burst sunward over our neighbor's trees as though sharing one single thought, only to dip left, drop abruptly below sight, and rush skyward again ... winged joy

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-27393402389524849002009-08-11T11:58:00.000-07:002009-08-11T11:59:27.243-07:00

I've been toying with the idea of focusing--at least for awhile--on my little town. I know my profile says I live in Seattle, but that's because I figured I'd lose you if I said Marysville. But now you know the truth. I could probably blog for an entire year about the characters in this town. And up till now, the only reason I haven't done so is because I couldn't choose which story, which

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-66066420917533788372009-07-03T17:07:00.001-07:002009-07-03T17:48:25.180-07:00

Last year, I thought I'd figure out how to make a movie on my Mac. This was the result. Songs by Brett Williams and Paul Baloche.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-42916024935406345812009-06-07T17:51:00.000-07:002009-06-07T17:55:03.293-07:00

Such a good reminder ...

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-6430763489303289682009-05-29T08:45:00.000-07:002009-05-29T08:46:27.363-07:00

My friend, Shannon Gallatin, sent me this video clip after her husband, Scott, sent it to her this morning. The subject line to his email was: Are women born this way?Good question, Scott. I'd say yes.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-35640797522990453792009-05-20T07:54:00.000-07:002009-05-20T10:13:44.311-07:00

My oldest friend in the world (oldest as in longest-lasting, that is), Andy Estrada, periodically sends me really thought-provoking emails. All the rest of the time he just sends me jokes and funny videos. But yesterday, this came through. It's a quote from C. S. Lewis that I have read and pondered before. I know that elusive "something" that Lewis describes--a hint of something not quite

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-13604669496257392562009-04-13T03:13:00.000-07:002009-04-13T03:29:19.532-07:00

My husband sang this song--one of my very favorites--at our Easter service yesterday. I didn't tell him I brought the camcorder and he didn't notice when I flipped it on and started filming. I'm glad I did.Dave Woodward (accompanied by Jerry Roberts)

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-30232288937450498732009-04-10T13:02:00.000-07:002009-04-10T13:19:15.670-07:00

O sacred Headnow wounded,with grief and shame weighed down,now scornfully surroundedwith thorns, thine only crown:how pale thou art with anguish,with sore abuse and scorn!How does that visage languishwhich oncewas bright as morn!What thou, my Lord, has sufferedwas all for sinners' gain;mine, mine was the transgression,but thine the deadly pain.Lo, here I fall, my Savior!'Tis I deserve thy place;

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-79745090279470616472009-04-07T12:38:00.001-07:002009-04-07T12:44:17.645-07:00

My dear friend, Inga-Lill Guzik, sent this to me today. I love the message behind this woman's actions. Read to the bottom, and then ask yourself, "What can I start doing today that will create beauty for someone?"The Daffodil Principleby Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards Several times my daughter, Julie, had telephoned to say, "Mom, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go,

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-63672121317043735532009-03-04T06:38:00.000-08:002009-03-04T06:43:41.971-08:00

Today we went to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial. And once again, I heard the story of Janusz Korczak. It's a story worth telling over and over, so here are my thoughts from the first time I visited Israel: I woke up last night at 2:45, and for some reason, there in the darkness, I thought of Janusz Korczak. You're wondering: who is Janusz Korczak? Well, in my opinion he's about as close to a

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-92224164863327686772009-02-28T20:38:00.000-08:002009-02-28T20:49:05.741-08:00

“That’s wrong,” Tera says, and I see indignation settling in her eyes. Her voice is quiet, but fierce. “There’s nothing joyful about that. Nothing. Why are people taking pictures?”From our position above the ruins of Megiddo, I look down at the circle of stones—the “high place” where untold numbers of infants cried and breathed their last—and my heart agrees. This is a place of abomination.Our

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-74895685551147488402009-02-14T12:01:00.000-08:002009-02-14T12:08:39.612-08:00

I've been battling sickness all week, but I had just enough energy to write a new post on our women's ministry blog this morning. But that's all I've got. So here's something from a few years back. I hope you all have a wonderful Valentine's Day ...Earlier today, I said to Dave, "Check on me tonight, will you? When you get home, say, 'How's that chapter coming? Did you get it finished?' I need

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-34413153674696001842009-02-01T23:35:00.000-08:002009-02-01T23:37:09.700-08:00

I found this video on YouTube tonight while looking for a David Crowder video. The info says this is a guy walking down the street in New York City who can't keep his praise to himself.I don't want to be silent either.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-39559276524781864352009-01-12T14:20:00.000-08:002009-01-12T14:25:06.701-08:00

I'm teaching at women's ministry tomorrow night--and preparing my lesson for that--and I've determined that I'm going to stick to a hefty writing schedule for my current work-in-progress. So here's a post from a few years back ...Mocha came home two days ago. It's not that she ever really left, but before I heard and saw her scratching at the back window forty-eight hours ago, I knew her only as

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-34225117297047948082009-01-06T11:33:00.000-08:002009-01-06T11:45:28.395-08:00

This rose was somehow still growing in the bed that borders our walkway. I spotted it bright and undaunted against its frosty backdrop.A quiet reminder that when the world is stilled and dark and cold, you can find the promise of spring ... if you'll look.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-49235519024095800822008-12-19T12:28:00.000-08:002008-12-19T20:32:02.205-08:00

I think the picture says it all. I could stay happily locked in this frosty white cocoon forever ...

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-89729532415563286132008-12-13T10:59:00.001-08:002008-12-13T11:17:35.953-08:00

When the power goes out, lowering a dark canopy of silence over our thirteen acres, Ma Ingalls stirs within me. She lifts a hand to strike a match and draws faltering light from a stubbed and blackened candlewick. She pours a fresh supply of oil into the hurricane lamps and spreads light from room to room. She feeds her people, and draws them close, and blankets them in flannel. She chases

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-54477342989705531622008-12-06T05:48:00.000-08:002008-12-08T17:05:08.283-08:00

With Christmas rapidly approaching, I'd like to offer a suggestion. Instead of asking for socks, Starbucks cards, perfume, clothes ... the usual stuff ... why not ask that someone make a donation in your name to Gospel for Asia? You'd be amazed at what a $11 contribution can do. For $11, you can buy a pair of chickens or rabbits for an impoverished family in India and help them start a cottage

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-1402154110692501412008-12-04T08:18:00.000-08:002008-12-04T09:27:13.481-08:00

Note: I'm rerunning this post about my new site because we're offering a giveaway for all who register at Twig and Feather by December 10th. The winner of the drawing will receive a copy of A Whisper in Winter, an ornament from Pottery Barn, a mug, candle, and assorted cocoas. If you missed the first post about the site, here it is again. We've been having a great time sharing recipes, holiday

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-40837483637330248272008-12-01T11:33:00.000-08:002008-12-01T11:51:25.205-08:00

Here's what I saw when no one knew I looked, when the noise kept swirling and circulating and my silence slipped by without notice:--A dozen men who gathered around Ed, laid hands on him, and prayed for all the expected things before surgery--peace, a settling of heartbeats, precision, clear eyes, fast recovery.--Elaina greeting Katrisha with a hug just before both turned their hearts back toward

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-91423838137913028692008-11-26T09:41:00.000-08:002008-11-26T09:43:51.951-08:00

I'm on a quest today to cross off as many items from my "to do" list as possible. So while I get on that, here's one from a few years back ...If you ask any woman this morning what the happiest noise on earth is, she'll tell you it's the sound of the oven door shutting just after she put put the turkey in. I never fail to sigh at that sound, which signals that "I did it." This year, I almost

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-92189426951101744642008-11-10T10:16:00.000-08:002008-11-10T11:24:40.124-08:00

After the hubbub of Sunday, filled with a lot of talking and laughing and praying, a lot of gearing up and catching up and meeting and greeting, we spend Monday mornings in the quietest ways we can find.Today, we're keeping an eye on the wood stove.Dave watches from the couch where, at 10:18, he sits still clad in his black and gray plaid robe. I'm in the low-to-the-ground legless rocker scooched

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-58651753950009692252008-11-06T07:01:00.000-08:002008-11-06T10:10:48.047-08:00

Last night was my turn at serving in the church nursery. But "served," I must say, seems a far cry from what actually transpired. I was blessed to sit in that corner rocker, holding that beautiful new boy. Sean and I spent a quiet hour doing little more than rocking and staring. I don't know what thoughts went through his little mind, but here are mine.He's less than three months old. His eyes

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-68194470849738102462008-11-05T10:04:00.000-08:002008-11-06T07:09:47.465-08:00

I didn't vote for Barak Obama. But I couldn't help but tear up last night when I saw a collage on TV of all 43 of our past presidents, and then, Obama's face was there--ten times larger than the rest, and centered right in the middle of all that history. The ceiling is broken ... and it's long overdue.I wrote to my very good friend, Sonya, this morning to try to express what I'm feeling. She

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-61734958702973021272008-10-31T19:39:00.001-07:002008-11-01T00:16:37.787-07:00

About seven seconds after we had it all in place--balloons tacked on the dart board; Goliath at the ready, defiant in the face of all those bean bags; bowl after bowl of piled-high candy; donuts hanging from strings; the hay wagon parked at the back gate; candy bags and markers ready for little hands--the first of our guests arrived: Spiderman (the first of a good half-dozen), Cinderella (the

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-10444677768683880182008-10-29T23:23:00.000-07:002008-10-29T23:37:43.321-07:00

About a year ago, I got an idea for a site that would help organize your home in fun, practical, innovative ways. I can't tell you those ways--not yet anyway. We don't have the software yet. But we--and that "we" includes my two partners, Andy and Nichelle Isaacson--have taken the first step toward making that site a reality.Please consider yourself invited to join our Twig and Feather community.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-14113572466854590512008-10-26T18:48:00.000-07:002008-10-26T20:24:08.734-07:00

I'm shopping at Haggen's, but before I start checking off my list and marching the aisles like I mean it, I stop by the Chinese food counter and order a small container of honey-glazed chicken. If you've never had Haggen's honey-glazed chicken, you probably shouldn't be giving me those looks.The boy who scoops my chicken asks me if I want any sauce. "Sure," I say. "How about some hot mustard?"

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-21256208519382146992008-10-24T17:32:00.000-07:002008-10-24T17:38:28.338-07:00

Running out the door, but I wanted to post and ask you to watch 20/20 tonight. They're doing an expose on Hannah Overton of Corpus Christi, Texas. The link in that line is to the posts I've already written about Hannah and her ordeal, or you can read about it at Free Hannah.And please keep praying.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-81806278131096214382008-10-13T00:05:00.000-07:002008-10-13T16:39:01.714-07:00

Here's how we left Germany ...The only sound at 7:30 a.m. on that Saturday morning was the rumble of our Rick Steves' suitcases as they covered the concrete distance between the Bible college and the Eiserfeld train station across the street. All of Siegen slept while we said good-bye. Past the silent front-facing depot, past the graffiti that graced the tunnel, down the steps and up the steps,

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-2948597953718873462008-10-01T10:12:00.000-07:002008-10-01T10:20:21.397-07:00

Home again! I've a head full of memories and much to share, but also an awful case of jet lag. I leave again Sunday for our annual Calvary Chapel Pastors' Wives Conference and another two weeks of interviews. I've got a workshop to prepare for, a book review to write, laundry to wash ... you get the picture. The minute I spot a clearing in all that, I'll post about the trip--starting with the

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-78888055083430405702008-09-26T11:13:00.000-07:002008-09-26T20:21:31.269-07:00

The tomatoes are shriveled red orbs that roll and bounce against their green plastic cage when I pull them from the back corner of the refrigerator. I'd had high hopes for those tomatoes back when they were fat and wrinkle-free.Those are tossed. But the yogurt and butter, cranberry juice, cream cheese and milk go in a bag for Lindsey and Tyson. I remember being married only a month and still in

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-76972374678317954502008-09-23T21:28:00.000-07:002008-09-25T00:49:54.818-07:00

(Blogger won't take my pictures today ... but I'll keep trying)I will take you to Buchenwald, I really will. And a walk through the Ann Frank House in downtown Amsterdam. But those tellings will only come when I push aside the happy-of-heart condition I'm in. You can't type those words while feeling light and satisfied. You have to go deep and lonely to find those words ... and I'm not

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-34157448533242333862008-09-19T05:39:00.001-07:002008-09-22T06:09:20.432-07:00

Several of the girls at the Bible College have asked me for recipes this week (and can I just tell you how much that delights me? I love that you all like to cook!). I thought about writing out the recipes and then copying them and cutting them and then trying to track down all the askers ... but then I thought, Why? The internet is so much easier.So here's a link to my recipe collection.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-89855742517294687952008-09-18T10:37:00.000-07:002008-09-18T19:28:18.045-07:00

I can hardly believe this is my 400th post. How did the last four years go so quickly? Not quite four years, actually, but it will be in December.I've been putting off posting, because the next logical post should be about our trip to Buchenwald, a concentration camp about three hours from Siegen. But what I saw and felt there was so heavy, I've only been able to put together half a post. I

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-16470365120514216062008-09-13T23:28:00.000-07:002008-09-14T00:03:57.701-07:00

I thought I'd make brownies for Dave, but it meant getting a little creative. I couldn't find unsweetened baking cocoa at Edeka, but I knew that with a little finagling, I could reduce the butter and substitute for unsweetened baking chocolate. But I really had no way of knowing which--if any--of the bars of chocolate I found in the baking aisle were unsweetened. So I bought the darkest looking

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-81567176233067951812008-09-10T02:48:00.000-07:002008-09-10T03:41:21.162-07:00

I saw the first of these signs in Scotland, I believe, in an area where there was a lot of road construction going on. Apparently, if you find yourself stranded within these random pockets of rescue, all you have to do is wait and someone will come along to "recover you." It struck me then, and I couldn't shake the thought. So when the same signs began popping up on the road somewhere between

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-52778965433279257872008-09-09T13:00:00.001-07:002008-09-10T00:11:34.670-07:00

Today I've got a handful of interesting facts to share with you. Mind you, I've learned all of this while on a simple quest to buy the ingredients to make cookies. Our apartment has a full-but-tiny kitchen, and I thought I'd make a few dozen cookies to send with Dave for his class.My first thought was chocolate chip cookies. But I learned that you can't buy chocolate chips in Germany. What? you

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-72983902568191406802008-09-08T05:33:00.000-07:002008-09-08T06:32:42.853-07:00

Jumping ahead again ... but I'll fill in the gaps eventually.These are pictures of the train station in Frankfurt, Germany. It's still a mystery to me how we made it from the airplane down to this platform, because between us, we know only two German words: Ya, and Nein. You can't go too far with Ya and Nein. We managed to pantomime our way through a couple of conversations and just kept

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-68482478697929445932008-09-04T16:05:00.002-07:002008-09-07T03:40:31.675-07:00

I know. A few numbers are missing. But if I don't jump up to "England-part 5," I can't tell you about our fantastic, brilliant, fabulous day. So I think I'll jump ahead and fill in the gaps when we get settled in Germany. It will be lovely to land in one spot for three whole weeks. I might even unpack my suitcase.This morning after a leisurely breakfast of English muffins with slices of Brie and

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-84388166965308409022008-09-03T15:42:00.000-07:002008-09-04T00:01:19.363-07:00

The truth be told, we're actually in London right now ... well, Hampton, really, which is close to Twickenham (Right. Be a love and don't argue just now, eh?) But before I go back to York, I must show you this car I spotted as we left Edinburgh. See the license plate? That made me laugh out loud. Get it?)Just as we got to the border of Scotland and England, we saw this bagpiper on the other side

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-52062958376946629892008-08-30T05:45:00.000-07:002008-08-30T07:53:25.967-07:00

I had visions of giving you daily, perhaps even hourly updates of our trip. Not to be. Not even the "daily" part has worked out. But I'll try to catch up to where we are now. Here's the last of Scotland ...Thursday morning, we hopped on a double-decker bus and headed toward the heart of Edinburgh--Princes Street and the Royal Mile. As we drove through town, I saw this chimney sweep shop and

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-3006582381671417302008-08-27T12:14:00.000-07:002008-08-30T07:26:29.327-07:00

We're here! And even though it's only the first day, there's already so much to tell. I'm afraid, though, that until I finish this book project, I'll have to be brief.I'll wait to tell you about our flight over until I can really describe it to you in detail. It was interesting in several aspects, and I don't want to rush it.We arrived in Edinburgh six hours ago. In that time, we got our car and

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-89833691398740639472008-08-21T10:34:00.000-07:002008-08-22T07:31:31.025-07:00

I'm leaving for Europe Tuesday morning (Did I really just say that?). Scotland, Wales, England, Germany, and France ... here we come! Life is busy in this pre-travel week. I'm drafting/editing a book which I will probably turn in ten minutes before we leave for the airport, which will leave me those ten minutes for packing. No time for blogging now, but watch next week for a description I'll no

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-20052349612246734602008-08-17T05:44:00.000-07:002008-08-17T15:01:00.990-07:00

I never delighted much in contemplating commas and colons, or in spelling or measuring syllables; but now ... if I attempt to look at these little objects, I find my imagination, in spite of all my exertions, roaming in the Milky Way, among the nebulae, those mighty orbs, and stupendous orbits of suns, planets, satellites, and comets, which compose the incomprehensible universe; and if I do not

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-86224529349105225602008-08-14T10:55:00.000-07:002008-08-14T11:02:15.937-07:00

We've been praying for Greg and Cathe Laurie and their family since the death of their son, Christopher, on July 24th. Below is a video of the message Greg shared with his church family (Harvest Christian Fellowship) just three days after Christopher went to be with the Lord. This is aptly entitled "I Still Believe." The truth of our faith shines brightest in the darkest moments. Jesus is real to

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-16731297027431070022008-08-12T09:43:00.001-07:002008-08-13T08:03:07.381-07:00

You remember Jaws. It's the movie that singlehandedly emptied the ocean, if only for a moment. Who wanted to swim out there in all that darkness? After seeing that film, it was a long time before I'd even wade. I'd venture out to knee-height in slow, inchy, trepidatious steps, but all the while, I could envision the scene underneath those waves. I was certain that like beacons, my two white legs

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-21445694218820096522008-08-10T06:10:00.000-07:002008-08-17T15:06:37.639-07:00

So we have our annual Chili Cook-off last Sunday. And just like every year, little paper donkeys hung on the walls of the church office. Honey-combed sombreros and chili peppers dotted the tables. A giant blow-up jalapeno bounced and jiggled in its pinned-up spot near the door.One by one, potholder-clad women carried in casserole dishes of cornbread--some plain, some cheesy, some flecked with

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-69918654360222381532008-08-06T21:57:00.000-07:002010-05-30T00:51:00.025-07:00

From the time I was a child, I've been aware of "girly" behavior. I don't think mannish behavior looks good on a woman. So you'll never find me sitting backwards on a chair with one leg slung left and one leg slung right. I wouldn't crop my hair short, or wear clothes that could go either way. And the only reason I'm telling you that is because you need to know the power of crab. Put a plate of

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-12065563028188720262008-08-02T09:12:00.000-07:002008-08-02T09:13:08.388-07:00

One from the files ... because I suddenly have a hankering.You start, of course, with a giant bowl of oats.I don't mean "quick cook" oats, either. Those worthless flakes pose no challenge to teeth; they offer no satisfaction. Regular oats. Giant bowl.In a just-big-enough pan, you then heat together a bit of oil and honey. The oil--in my opinion--should be olive, because it's so good for you. And

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-3524509260321995992008-07-31T07:04:00.000-07:002008-12-09T07:52:13.282-08:00

Down on third street in my little town, a tiny Dutch bakery sits between a smattering of second-hand and specialty stores. Early in a day, you can smell the loaves of crusty white and wheat and rye bread rising in their back-room ovens. You can enjoy a whiff of chocolate, whipped up for slathering on the cake donuts. You catch a hint of cookies baked with spices you can't quite identify.But I

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-10795638137718382062008-07-29T07:45:00.000-07:002008-07-31T08:43:45.789-07:00

A phone call from a friend woke us on that unforgettable Tuesday morning in 2001. We scurried from bed, huddled in front of the TV, and watched with the rest of the world while our innocence crumbled to the ground. I still recall my disbelief when the first tower dissolved into rubble. I turned to Dave. "But ... there are people in there," as if my logic could somehow reverse the moment, and

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-76890347405381260312008-07-27T18:10:00.000-07:002008-07-28T11:47:28.051-07:00

I still remember what I felt when I first watched the video of Pastor Jon Courson memorializing his daughter, Jessie, after her death at the age of 16. I watched that man lift up the name of Jesus, and smile at the memory of his daughter, and comfort those who had come to comfort him. And what I felt was awe--awe at the God who could infuse that hurting man with strength, and give him the words

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-51192394076265428442008-07-24T14:32:00.000-07:002008-07-28T11:58:42.359-07:00

I'm so grieved at this news.This morning, the first-born son of Pastor Greg Laurie and Cathe Laurie was killed in an accident on the 91 freeway near Riverside, California. The initial report is that Christopher Laurie, 33, pulled into the carpool lane not realizing that the California Transportation Department had just shut it down. He drove into the back of a Caltran truck, which was parked in

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-3500110964979176332008-07-24T11:25:00.000-07:002008-07-24T12:04:46.910-07:00

It's happened again. Another media shark feast, all due to a whiff of scandal within Christianity. This time it's the principal of a local Christian school.Not for one moment am I minimizing the charges. If they're true, they're awful. And they require serious consequences. But I'm taking a stand here.I've decided to believe the best. And not just about this man, or this circumstance. For a long

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-35752964376225963962008-07-20T17:41:00.000-07:002008-07-20T18:02:52.518-07:00

On Sundays, I often come home already missing those I've left behind. I love this group of people. And I love what God has done in our midst. He's created a family who worships together, studies together, dines together, and prays together. Here's a post about the latter.On Wednesday nights, when the message has been taught and we're all full and satisfied, we close our Bibles, arrange ourselves

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-13487827278056093872008-07-17T22:58:00.000-07:002008-07-17T23:33:27.372-07:00

"Cut my hair," she says, with that all-purpose, pleading tone, the one she uses for popsicles and new shoes and just one more game of cards.I don't want to cut her hair. She's twelve ... almost thirteen, and that means she owns an opinion or two. I'm not as this-or-that as I was last year, or the year before. I can't get away with bordering-on-funny anymore. She rolls her eyes and looks out the

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-41293465732155671892008-07-12T19:30:00.000-07:002008-07-12T19:40:42.581-07:00

Another from the files ...Her name was Martha, and she was born eleven years, two months and thirty-eight days before me. She was covered by Farmers Insurance and adhered to a strict regimen of minerals and supplements; her daily dose included 300 mgs of Passionfever and 500 mg of Psyllium. Her blood type was A+ and she had no allergies. I learned all this when I found and skimmed Martha's

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-2336878559146599152008-07-04T10:09:00.001-07:002008-07-04T10:09:25.995-07:00

We were birthed in the light of His favor, nourished on the truth of His Word, sheltered under the might of His arm and raised up for His sovereign purpose. May we not discard our heritage. May America turn back ... and bless God.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-25478504262063649272008-06-28T07:52:00.000-07:002008-06-28T08:30:06.102-07:00

"It may be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life. The thing I mean can be seen for instance in children, when they find some game or joke that they especially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-42751888700645968942008-06-28T07:15:00.000-07:002008-06-28T09:05:39.257-07:00

I knew I had another post with the word "Harley" in it. Since my ride a few weeks ago, I've had Harley-on-the-brain. I am thiiiisss close to convincing my husband we need one. I managed to set my Harley thoughts aside long enough to get some work done. Part of that has included research on Vietnam. While talking to a friend about what it was like to be eighteen and facing the draft in 1967, he

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-78946834589734935152008-06-25T10:09:00.000-07:002008-06-26T08:56:20.796-07:00

The washing machine is full, which would make sense at the end of a long trip except that so are both my suitcases. My heart is full because I'm back in the place of green, where the sun has to go deep and crafty if it's to find a way through all those emerald boughs. Where it succeeds, bright speckles dot the lawn. Where it fails, dark shadows invite and tease. I'm sorely tempted to leave this

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-1687084536968483562008-06-23T06:05:00.000-07:002008-06-23T06:09:59.244-07:00

While I've been here in southern California fighting off the heat, my thoughts have drifted often toward home--where time (and traffic) runs more slowly, where breezes are polite enough to cool you, where the garden yields food for not just the eyes and the stomach, but the nose too. I'm missing the tangy scent of earth, and beans, and ripe-to-the-minute tomatoes. So here's what you get ...When I

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-88732125846010105672008-06-18T09:12:00.000-07:002008-06-18T11:50:38.478-07:00

I had a bout of food poisoning over the last few days. So when I found this post from a few years back, it seemed a timely offering. Today, I'm restored ... and grateful.I am back among the land of the breathing.This morning, I opened my eyes and realized two things: one, I had slept through the night without a single coughing fit, and two, I could smell the rain-washed air drifting through our

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-37588351840545409772008-06-13T20:12:00.000-07:002008-06-13T22:28:37.615-07:00

Under an inky black sky and a tree flecked with lights, the dredlocked man shimmies to his own guitar licks. He's found a way to jazz up "Three Little Monkeys." A handful of those monkeys, wearing sneakers and flip flops and baby Crocs, shed timidity and their parents and perform an unrehearsed dance revue, while we adults laugh and applaud and urge them on.One 30" child with a penchant for

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-84152222166692193302008-06-11T10:17:00.001-07:002008-06-12T18:23:58.333-07:00

Still on the road. Here's a post from quieter days.I've told you about Luke. He's my two and a half-year old playmate, my fellow ruffian and cuddler all rolled into a sweaty, mischievous pile of boy. He also happens to be Madison's youngest brother.Our game of "catch me; catch what I throw at you; come and find me" has been ongoing for two months now. Of course, we have to stop here and there for

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-51131336771927869962008-06-05T18:48:00.001-07:002008-06-05T18:52:16.169-07:00

I'm still in southern California, still loving the sunshine and the circumstances that have brought me here. I'll have many stories when I get back. For now, here's one from the past ...My proper but mischievous grandmother had one firm rule about cussing: If you must do it, do it in the barn. I believe now that her unspoken message was "animal behavior belongs with the animals," but we didn't

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-73876475751629614832008-05-26T11:00:00.000-07:002008-05-27T08:25:34.986-07:00

We went to Dick's drive-in in the U-District Thursday (U being University of Washington, for those of you unfamiliar with my exotic, sophisticated, Washingtonian lingo). It wasn't optional. As far as I know, it's not possible to drive to and from SeaTac airport without making the obligatory stop at Dick's--our version of In-and-Out Burger.Got in line. Gave our order: Two deluxe, four

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-62140595367904977512008-05-23T16:11:00.001-07:002008-05-23T16:14:17.561-07:00

While looking for a particular song (another by Steven Curtis Chapman), I found this long-ago favorite. This song so perfectly sums up the heart behind adoption.

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-85357183384592241582008-05-22T08:18:00.001-07:002008-05-23T15:51:42.337-07:00

Please say a prayer for the family of Steven Curtis Chapman today (Left to right: Will Franklin, Maria, Steven, Shaoey, Mary Beth, Stevey Joy, Caleb and Emily). Yesterday morning, his youngest daughter, 5-year old Maria Sue, was struck and killed by an SUV driven by her brother.The family has set up a video blog of Steven and Maria taken just two months ago. You can leave your condolences here.A

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-86192904116830043922008-05-19T10:35:00.000-07:002008-05-19T11:35:59.904-07:00

With that "paci" in her mouth, Amber has the power to leap walls, ward off toy-snatchers, and participate in the after-fellowship ritual of runner rolling-up.Duncan needs no accoutrements. He brings only bare muscle and the fierceness of two-year old determination.For months now, these two have been my escorts to and from my car on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights. Duncan will not permit me

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-68866316829418995012008-05-14T14:52:00.000-07:002008-05-14T15:43:59.094-07:00

Three times today ... maybe five ... maybe a dozen, my thoughts have turned toward tonight, when we fellowship-moths will gather around the Light, and fill ourselves up with food and laughter and the Word.Mark will arrive first, of course. He's the Spaghetti Man. And because he's wired that way, he'll have the table up, the burners lit, the water boiling, and sauce on the way in about half the

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-57275175764243998552008-05-11T07:21:00.000-07:002008-05-15T05:49:04.679-07:00

I've returned to this poem again and again, in those sunless hours when all I need to take one more step is a reminder of the One I'm walking toward. For You, Jesus, I'll take the barren days and rocky steps. I'll be misunderstood or betrayed or abandoned, if that means the fellowship of Your suffering. For You, Savior, I'll keep walking.The GiftI heard todayOf a decrepit native womanWho walked

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-85522206644735517652008-05-06T07:51:00.000-07:002008-05-07T04:44:26.656-07:00

"Hi, Mom," I hear. A man's voice, and not my son's, comes crackling through the phone. I scooch up higher in bed, hoping the extra few inches will land me in that elusive current of "Yes, I can hear you now." It works.We'd spoken earlier in the day, when his father and I had walked together down a long gray strip of gray in a tunnel of sun-flecked firs. He'd sounded cranky then. Bible college has

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-67948710028268996562008-05-05T07:05:00.000-07:002008-05-05T15:34:02.830-07:00

The seed I gave, if transferred to the One who is Light, would have taken root where it belonged--in the heart of the recipient; the heart He and I both love. But the seed was not transferred to God. While I watched, helpless, the god of shadows wooed open the hand that held it, took the hopeful kernel, and planted it in a seedbed of gall and resentment. And overnight, the seed grew into a bitter

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-5518243515143383932008-05-01T09:49:00.000-07:002008-06-12T07:23:41.459-07:00

I love books that hold my attention from the get-go and that I can read in a day. Skizzer, the debut novel by author A.J. Kiesling, is just such a book. From time to time I get offers to review books, and honestly, I don't say yes all that often. But it was A. J. Kiesling's bio that changed my answer from no to yes:A.J. (Angie) Kiesling grew up loving trees and words--trees because they formed

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-83794487492057890762008-04-30T07:05:00.000-07:002008-04-30T07:10:04.218-07:00

Apparently, all Oklahomans fish. It's not optional. Even new, gangly-legged transplants are expected to pole-up and do their part. Shortly after our move from my home state to his, my new step-father decided the seven-year old me needed an introduction. So he took our family to his favorite cabin up in the hills near a river guaranteed to yield fish. I wasn't a big fan of fish, unless it came

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-80672551873041744602008-04-21T07:39:00.000-07:002008-08-12T14:04:01.335-07:00

Dave just sent me a link to this picture from the Hubble Site news center. The accompanying blurb says, "NASA's Hubble Space Telescope Resolves a Dark "x" Across the Nucleus of M51."An "x"? Really? Those scientists must be walking around with their heads tilted at an odd, abnormal, uncomfortable angle.Because I see a cross.God's glory is on tour in the skies, God-craft on exhibit across the

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-90883241459132894182008-04-16T08:14:00.000-07:002008-05-06T07:46:24.782-07:00

She sits close to me tonight. Closer than usual. Sometimes, on some Wednesday nights, I can tell her mind is elsewhere. Those times, she's not enclosed within the four walls of this church. She's running free.But tonight she leans in close. It's not that she's snuggling--which she also does sometimes--it's more that she's just ... leaning. For a minute, I can't figure out why. But then I catch

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-1182128501915931032008-04-10T10:12:00.000-07:002008-04-10T10:28:23.594-07:00

Whenever I'm asked, "How do I get started writing?" my first response is always, "Attend a writers' conference." There's no substitute. Nothing else motivates you quite like these gatherings of writers, editors, publishers, and agents. A weekend in that kind of setting sends you home fluffed, nudged, and ready to scribble.As it happens, there's a great (and affordable) conference on the near

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9867318.post-64887382984212820032008-04-07T09:16:00.000-07:002008-04-07T09:18:20.623-07:00

I'm as busy as I've ever been, writing-wise. I wake up, make a pot of coffee, find a quiet corner of the house (and that changes on a regular basis), and start reading, transcribing, and scribbling notes. This research (on the Counterculture Movement of the 60s, the Jesus Movement that followed, and how that movement merged with a small fellowship called Calvary Chapel and exploded into a

Shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06979169490651455277noreply@blogger.com8