A Scribe By Trade

It is inevitible that my writing reflects my love of relationship, with first and most importantly the God who loves and sustains me, and then with people, nature and words themselves. If I could, I would cover my walls and ceiling with the words that have stretched, delighted, comforted and shaped me. (Which could explain my unique decorating style, Buried In Books.)

My own writing is accesible and a reflection of the hope I cherish. Some is written tongue in cheek; I like humor – even slightly dark, but always pointing towards the light that I have experienced. I just found this lovely rendition of a song I heard sung at a funeral recently. The lyrics in the second verse capture my goal in writing. While my writing is nowhere near as distilled as Mr. Leheman’s, I hope it reflects something of the vast scope of God’s character – though perhaps still more like a carnival mirror* than the Hubble Telescope.

  The Love Of God 
Could we with ink the ocean fill,  
and were the skies of parchment made,  
were every stalk on earth a quill,   
and every man a scribe by trade,   
to write the love of God above   
would drain the ocean dry;   
nor could the scroll  
contain the whole,   
though stretched from sky to sky.
 Frederich Leheman   


I just discovered this group, Eli Eli, and I love the simplicity and purity of their music.

*I’ve never used an asterisk before and I don’t have a category for fashion tips. But here’s a freebie. The full length mirror in my bedroom has a happy flaw, a slight concave curve. So that, although the Lord saw fit to give me legs that barely reach the floor, the mirror sends back a lovely leggy image subtracting at least ten pounds in the process – a great advantage if your self worth still depends on your appearance and if you just happen to be stress eating during the lockdown.

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