“We are a people in need of promise, in need of hope, in need of miracles. We are a people hungry for God, to see His hand, to hear His voice, to know Him.”c e hollis There is nothing that makes us feel more alive than finding a flower blooming, hearing the cry of a... Continue Reading →
“ Fog comes and wraps the trees with a baby’s soft white blanket. God swaddles the earth in hope.” Fog rises from the creek bed. It lifts off the farm ponds and creeps across the terra firma. It blankets the garden plot, hides fences, and camouflages the line of farm equipment parked along the north... Continue Reading →
When winter comes to this Oklahoma farm and ranch land, we harvest our pecans, and tend our small herd of cows, feeding them on hay we cut and baled in the summer. We pasture them on winter grasses and alfalfa hay. Fence building and mending and pasture work goes on here all year long. The... Continue Reading →
“Let’s not put away Christ with the Christmas trappings.”c e hollis After New Year’s Day, I undo the ornaments and lights from the tree and pack them up in boxes to return to a plastic tub in the upstairs bedroom closet. The nativity scene, the stained-glass ornaments I painted with the children years ago, the... Continue Reading →
Frost edges the fallen oak and sycamore leaves in the early morning. Some are like Christmas cookies—gingerbread men with a dusting of confectioner's sugar. The redbud tree has dropped all its heart-shaped leaves and is draped now with seed pods that will eventually drop tiny black seeds after the winds of winter sufficiently weather their... Continue Reading →
"Prairie is a word that calls out to me. It is grass and wildflowers, crops, cattle grazing and hawks circling in the blue. Oceanic––filled to the brim with life, light, and undulating wind-stirred waves." c.e. hollis An early morning foggy pasture with a single tree. It is quiet and full of sound at the same... Continue Reading →
Summer means catching fireflies, the smell of suntan lotion, churning ice cream, porch-swinging and playing in the warm beach sand.
Petunias are delicate and sweet, but considered by a grouchy person like me to be "flimsy." The petunias are not my personal choice, but what person doesn't like petunia's colors and their fluted shapes? I watched last week as a tiny hummingbird came and sipped from red and pink petunias in a hanging basket on... Continue Reading →