lenten journal

lenten journal: search image

Milton Brasher-Cunningham

10 Mar 2021 — 1 min read

images

I started last night by saying I had seen an article in The Atlantic titled “We Have To Grieve Our Lost Good Days” and the title sent me into poetry writing mode before I even read the article. I also said I was going to read the article when I finished, and I did. Twice. But it was not until someone made a comment on my blog that I saw what I had not seen” the title of the article was “We Have to Grieve Our Last Good Days,” not Lost Days.

search image

things hide in plain sight or maybe they’re not hiding we just don’t see them because our mind has a mental search image that lets us see what we were looking for rather than what is there

she wrote the word last it was all over the page and all I saw was lost she was pointed to memories of last times and I saw the days that never got to happen that can’t be remembered

mental search image is a term I learned from something else I read it describes how we find our car keys or spot our friends in a crowd we have an image of what we are looking for

what are you looking for beyond these days of depression and distance so much that your mind switches letters to let you see it I’m just wondering you don’t have to answer

Peace, Milton

faithful failures

It’s getting down to crunch time in the baseball season, which means it doesn’t take much for my sermon to intersect with the Red Sox. Here’s what I said on Sunday. ________________________________ In the fall of 2004, I was the Associate Pastor of the First Congregational Church of

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consider the sunflowers

Last week’s lectionary passage is one of my favorites. Here’s what I had to say on Sunday. __________________________ Right after Ginger and I got back from our trip to Durham last month, we noticed a plant that had sprung up along our back fence line. It was not there

asking for a friend

I think this is the first time that thinking about prayer took me to both Robert Frost and ice hockey. Here’s my sermon for this week. ____________________________ My twelfth grade English teacher Ms. Morse is responsible, in part, for my love of poetry—particularly the poems of Robert Frost. When

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faithful failures

Coming soon

consider the sunflowers

asking for a friend