Occasionally, I stand at a microphone in front of an audience and read what words I’ve written. Sometimes, the room is full of people who know how to make poetry reading sounds, the low hmmm and mmmm that seem to mean, Hey, metaphor! or, That seems deep. Or maybe just, You lost me with that image of a monkey loose in heaven.
Other times, I stand in front of a classroom and lead workshops for young writers, new writers, old writers, and all the in-betweens.
Still other times, I stand at the front of a church with a stack of notes I consistently forget to refer to because I’m too busy talking with my hands as I speak to people about the search for Big Truth and Beauty, wrestling with all the questions I love best, and the One I love most. I could yak endlessly about what eternity glitters like in the everyday, about how the natural world, despite its brokenness, displays the glorious handiwork of the Creator, about Jesus and his wild claims, his out-there love, about the differences between ticking off to-do list items and living to bear good fruit, about stoking the fires of a Spirit-fuelled creativity, about the Church as a greenhouse for cultivating the arts and redeeming culture, about grace and forgiveness and what it looks like to let the old grudge-grip go, about how the scattered fragments of a life kaleidoscope into place when looked at in the light of redemption’s Bigger Story.
To keep up on what’s happening and where I might be standing next, check back here for dates, locations, and details.
To invite me to read, speak, or lead a writing workshop or retreat, contact me.