Some Private Spot

This gem, from A.W. Tozer, is my 11th commandment. This is the rule by which I want to live in this season of becoming reacquainted with the quiet, contemplative part of myself: Retire from the world each day to some private spot, even if it be only the bedroom (for a...

Enough

The spirea branches that brush the window still bear red and yellow leaves. Beyond them, the fig tree is bare, its yellowing leaves ripped from its branches by Saturday’s windstorm. A few forlorn figs hang in the gray mizzle of morning, dripping rain. Soon, they, too,...