I hope you may find beauty and play here, perhaps a striking insight and renewing hope. This online home represents my own journey through Isaiah 61 of giving God my ashes, mourning, and a faint spirit. I pray the mantle of praise and oil of gladness that God has offered in response may be contagious, especially as we explore everything through poetry.
May you leave this space breathing slower and more deeply than when you first arrived. I bless you to feel more empowered to live an unfeigned life, even as a flesh-and-blood person in your local neighborhood, buoyed by verse.
But for now, welcome. Take a look around. Breathe.
Why House Slippers?
When others met me when I was a child, they often exclaimed, “hey! you have really small feet!” It’s true; I do. I was born with clubfeet, which means my scar-lined, size 5.5 wide feet (or size 36, if we’re being European about it) continue to make shoe shopping an adventure. I’m grateful, however, that God has turned this seeming liability into a strength. I now understand the value of providing care and love to feet, whether they are my own, or those of guests in my home.
I lived in China for several years. Across the world, I discovered there’s wisdom and hospitality in shedding the shoes upon entry, and wearing slippers in our residential sanctuaries. As the guest, it doesn’t matter if you are rich or poor, wearing stilettos or frumpy clunky shoes like the ones I often must wear–-the slippers equalize us all. As the host, I ensure that my guests have comfortable and clean options to protect their feet when they visit me. Slippers speak to a just generosity.
When Jesus washes the disciples’ feet, he honors the image of God in each person. I extend this bipedal practice today through the ministry of house slippers.
Veneta Masson discusses how nursing turned her into a poet, as well as the medical community’s increased interest in poetry.
A prayer to bless the virtual rooms of an online home.
Despite my best efforts, I can’t always control the results of a poem.