Apr 20, 2019 | Art, Christianity, Eugene C. Scott, Faith, God, God Sightings, grief, Jesus, Lent, Living Spiritually, mystery, photography, poetry |
Waiting. How did Jesus’ disciples feel on that dark Saturday after Jesus was crucified? Remembering the emptiness, grief, fear, disbelief, and irrational hope I felt after my dad’s death, I imagined this response. Neil Berg’s rock opera The 12 imagines...
Apr 16, 2019 | Christianity, Eugene C. Scott, God, God Sightings, Jesus, Lent, Living Spiritually, Nature photography |
The first time I experienced the Grand Canyon, I stood back from its precipice in child-like awe stunned by its vast beauty. Reds, golds, grays, blacks, chalk whites mingled in impossible hues. Vertigo swirled. My toes clung to the rock path through my boot...
Apr 3, 2019 | Eugene C. Scott, God, God Sightings, Lent, Listening, Living Spiritually |
Noisy Oklahoma rain pounded against my office window. Being a Colorado boy, I didn’t own an umbrella. It was a good day to hunker down. Besides I had a Bible study to prepare. Except. I couldn’t get Kalista off my mind. Kalista was a member of my congregation in...
Mar 19, 2019 | adventure, Christianity, Eugene C. Scott, God Sightings, Jesus, Lent, Nature photography |
Leaves rustle behind me. I listen. The minute intermittent scratch—barely audible, but amplified by the silence around me—is the only sound for miles. Besides my own breathing. It’s a field mouse burrowing under the long, golden grass that is my seat. Now a...
Oct 5, 2018 | Art, Eugene C. Scott, God, God Sightings, Living Spiritually, Nature photography |
Above me aspens climb the sky Knobbly fingers intertwine Creating a lattice of quivering lace Painting yellow hue on cobalt face Heart-shaped leaves collect the sun Phosphorescence of the One Throwing sparks of gentle light Scattering dreams, kites in flight...
Jun 17, 2017 | authenticity, belonging, Christianity, Eugene C. Scott, God Sightings, grief, Living Spiritually |
This year I’ve lived forty-nine years beyond my dad’s death. Ironic. He would have turned forty-nine the year he died. Dad passed several days before Father’s Day, 1968. I’ve missed him. Whether I wanted to or not. But he’s been with me every day since, in one...
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