Monday, April 30, 2012

Wild Goose!


On June 21-24, Rock and Laurel along with niece Liz and friend Hannah, are headed to North Carolina to partner with the Wild Goose Festival, a creative gathering at the intersection of justice, spirituality, music and art.
At a typical day at the festival, an attender might take in a mainstage performance by American musician and record producer T-bone Burnett, a conversation with award winning screenwriter and director, Callie Khouri, a faith dialogue with Tony and Peggy Campolo, Brian McLaren or Lynne Hybels, and dozens of open air conversations under trees, on a walk, at the campsites.
The atmosphere intentionally lowers class and social barriers, creating free interaction between even the most accomplished speakers and attenders. And attenders have the chance to request and host informal conversations about topics they're interested in during the event, which may be attended by producers, seminary presidents, New York Times best-selling authors and a host of others they wouldn't normally interact with.
I invite you to check out www.wildgoosefestival.com and consider coming along as thousands of people from all walks of life talk, listen, eat and camp together as equals captivated by the story of Jesus.)
See you at the Wild Goose!

Friday, April 13, 2012

Waiting


Waiting
by Marion Maxson
April 2012
Lagom Landing

Sun-bright the day,
Cool the March breeze,
I walk to the woods again,
out past the chickens, gathered,
awaiting our scraps...
We, awaiting their daily eggs-gifts.
Out past the workers, stooping,
turning the earth
planting apple trees, awaiting 
the day, in years
when nourishing fruit falls.
waiting
Out past the workers, pounding, sawing,
converting the old barn into classrooms
awaiting the day, in months
when students will come.
waiting
Out past the stoney place 
to the path through the trees
to the wet place
where trout lily leaves
all spotted in the sun
await their pointy yellow
flowers.
Maybe next week
if the sun is warm.
Out along the mown path
to where the pines 
whisper in the wind.
Here I find a sacred spot 
under one lone tree.
Soft needles on the ground 
await my coming again
on a warmer day
bringing blanket and lunch.
waiting
We wait,
yet already filled
we seek sacred spaces
for today,
for the future.
Awaiting the bets time
Awaiting the coming of God.