The mulligan (not a sweater, not a stew) A duffer finds grace in golf by Ken Rummer My tee shot gained altitude, a rare outcome and hopeful. But then it started to curve, bending more and more to the left. This was during the decade of my life when I played a little golf. The… Read more »
May 7, 2021
Sightings
The mulligan (not a sweater, not a stew) A duffer finds grace in golf by Ken Rummer My tee shot gained altitude, a rare outcome and hopeful. But then it started to curve, bending more and more to the left. This was during the decade of my life when I played a little golf. The… Read more »
Grief beyond words A few notes for Good Friday by Ken Rummer From the musical “There’s a grief that can’t be spoken.” A young man in a high-collared jacket is singing. I’ve channel-clicked into the middle of a replay of the 25th anniversary presentation of Les Miserables. (Is that Nick Jonas singing?) At this… 
Looking for the new in a new year Of calendars and hope and new snow by Ken Rummer Happy New Year, everybody! Or, as we sing along with José Feliciano in “Feliz Navidad,” his fifty-year holiday hit: Próspero año y felicidad (A prosperous and happy new year). Despite the crises and disasters of the year… 
Looking for signs of hope: Maple buds and brimming cups by Ken Rummer Look for signs of hope. The teachers of resilience offer this wisdom to the storm-tossed, the overwhelmed, the anxious. You may be way ahead of me here, but it’s advice I’m trying to take. A couple of weeks ago—it was on a… 
What’s getting me through these days Three tested tactics by Ken Rummer I’m a small child in a crib, struggling to breathe in the night, clogged up with what will turn out to be allergies and asthma. My crying rouses my parents who take turns responding. Being picked up and held vertically helps. I can… 
Picking Out A Frame Scripture, History and the Present Moment by Ken Rummer The canvas before us looks to be from a surrealist artist. In the center, a figure in a beaked plague mask rides a green horse. To one side, bed-sheet banners with the message “No Job, No Rent” hang from apartment windows. To… 
The pumpkin and the bee An observation by Ken Rummer The pumpkin is bigger than a softball now, in dark green with a few warty bumps. It’s something of an accident. Last fall, when our porch pumpkin sagged into mushy flatness, I carried it out back on a shovel, and deposited it, without eulogy or ceremony,… 
When words collide Bumping through the Lord’s Prayer by Ken Rummer In my pastoring days, I often invited the mourners at the graveside to join in praying the Lord’s Prayer. I suppose it was a vestige of Christendom culture, the assumption that most everyone there would know the prayer by heart, but in our rural… 
Feeling steadier now What I learned from walnut and light by Ken Rummer The bench seat feels smooth under my hand. Finally. It’s been a journey. The three walnut boards that form the seat started out rough-sawn, still sporting splinter fuzz and tooth arcs from the sawmill. I brought them through jointing and… 
The goldfinch and the virus With a word and a prayer by Ken Rummer Walking the trail yesterday, I caught a flash of yellow in the wild plum stems—a goldfinch, the first I’ve seen this season. After last week’s snow, I took it as a welcome sign of spring. Red-winged black birds perched along…