Tuesday, June 27, 2017


I have an oft-repeated goal of writing at least 500 words daily this summer, so, hopefully, I will become a frequent contributor on my blog once again.  To motivate myself, I have been perusing some of my old posts.  Here is one I wrote when I was trying to capture a “sense of place”.  When writers create a “sense of place,” the reader feels like he/she is present in the story.  See what you think…

(Originally posted on Sunday, February 6, 2011)

There they sat, waiting to board the next flight out.  She, dark skinned, island born, wild hair, flirty sundress, high-heeled flip-flops.  He, lined face, gray head, young body, awkward, red European boy-capris.  Strange combination, these two.

I watched them as they sat across from me in the busy, open- air gate in this balmy Caribbean airport --where the breeze smelled of jet fuel and fresh mangoes. The masses rushed by or slept sprawled out on several vinyl cushions; the French woman chided her husband in a disrespectful tone; and the Spanish baby cried in the universal language of infants. But still, I watched them.

He laid his head on her lap, a sea of bright red flowers around his ears, as she twirled his gray hair absentmindedly. His small hand held her other arm as he struggled to stay awake, becoming so relaxed in her adoration. She continued to adore and twirl, adore and twirl.  His eyes became heavier and heavier until he fell asleep, secure.

As I watched this woman-child treasure her unlikely lover, and as I saw him become completely subdued by her enchantment, I understood a great truth.  And it is this, everyone wants someone to love them—really truly love them and adore them.

In my mind, I thought of all of the cruel people, the heartless people, people who have done evil things throughout history. I wondered it these people had ever felt adored—truly loved by another.  If they were to lie down and let someone smooth their hair…adore and twirl, adore and twirl…would their hearts become soft?  Could their hardness drain out through tears; their evil intent dissolve with each soft caress?  I don’t know, but I like to think that even a lion could be tamed with authentic adoration.

God wishes we would understand that you know.  
He adores us.
As His children, we have His Spirit; He is closer than our very breath.  
He desires us to know how much He loves us.  
We are of infinite value to Him.  
He created us to love us.  
He created us to commune with Him.  
He created us to be His own.

And fall asleep in His enchantment, precious one.

But now, this is what the LORD says— 
   he who created you, O Jacob, 
   he who formed you, O Israel: 
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; 
   I have summoned you by name; you are mine. 
When you pass through the waters, 
   I will be with you; 
and when you pass through the rivers, 
   they will not sweep over you. 
When you walk through the fire, 
   you will not be burned; 
   the flames will not set you ablaze. 
For I am the LORD, your God, 
   the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; 
I give Egypt for your ransom, 
   Cush and Seba in your stead. 
Since you are precious and honored in my sight, 
   and because I love you, 
I will give men in exchange for you, 
   and people in exchange for your life. 
Do not be afraid, for I am with you; 
   I will bring your children from the east 
   and gather you from the west. 
I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’ 
   and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’ 
Bring my sons from afar 
   and my daughters from the ends of the earth— 
everyone who is called by my name, 
   whom I created for my glory, 
   whom I formed and made.”

Isaiah 43:1-7