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Irony? At Christmas?
Frederick Douglass once said: “At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed.” I suppose he may be right. For in my mission to feed the hungry soul today, I can only think of the irony at hand.
It’s Christmas time. And many are struggling.
Broken Steeples.
Yes, I’m an author of fiction, but today I write a true story. I kid you not. This really happened. And I could take you there. I traveled the road in my own pickup truck last week. And what a journey it was! Epic. But don’t we all love a good journey? It’s deep and rooted within us to enjoy the journey experience. Perhaps because we are all on one. Perhaps because we all can relate.
The Beauty of a Mourning Flower
The old adage that April showers bring May flowers fills our minds with the preconceived notion that the only time of year to see color is in the spring. I strongly disagree.
It has already started. A vast array—splashes of bright pigment that enhances the sight of every direction you turn—I’ve often supposed more flowers by number are fall-bloomers. Just take a walk and you will see wildflowers popping out of everywhere. Roadsides, hillsides, grasslands, parks, they might be smaller in size than springtime counterparts, but are they any less uplifting to the spirit?
A Little Bit of Impossible.
I write to bring people hope. That’s my calling. That’s why I do what I do. It may come in the form of a novel or a blogpost. Perhaps a booklet on grief and loss. A talk at a coffee shop or library. Sometimes the subject matter might spark a reader’s interest. sometimes not. But all things considered, I tend to hang myself out on the line in plain view of others. I guess it’s my style. The good. The bad. The broken. And what common thread do I aim for? The target? What do I wish people to see when they read words written by Chuck Carr?
May people read words of hope.
Hope. The driving force that keeps us moving forward.