“The whole outlook of mankind might be changed if we could all believe that we dwell under a friendly sky and that the God of heaven, though exalted in power and majesty, is eager to be friends with us.”
— A.W. Tozer
Welcome to our blog page. The content here, up through the year 2022, was originally posted on my personal blog/website (chrisdeman.com). As God continues to lead us into different ways of being spiritually formed, our creative outlets have also transitioned. So, we’re simplifying into one web presence. We hope that you find encouragement, challenge, a bit of humor, and honest reflection on our experience with God in the commonplace.
Who Else?
I’ve spent a lot of time in school. Like most people, I was required to assimilate and regurgitate information. I’ve learned arithmetic, the parts of speech, capitals, countries, continents, and species of flora. Buried in my brain is The Periodic Table, multiplication tables, and the chemical formula for table salt. I can still recite the first few lines of the prologue to The Canterbury Tales in Middle English: “Whan that aprill with his shoures soote, the droghte of march hath perced to the roote...” Oh, the trauma!
A Converted Caravan
The photos shuffling on the display of my computer are of the Gros Ventre Wilderness near Jackson, Wyoming. During the summer of 2018, my youngest son and I, along with a handful of other fathers and their sons, set-out into that remote part of the American West for an 8-day adventure of vigorous hiking.
Sappy and Green
I enjoy making new from old. Last summer in an unplanned flash of creativity, I crafted…
When I Couldn't Toot My Horn
She and her band of merry musicians were treated like royalty as they made their perennial trek from the hormone-ravaged halls of the junior high to the prepubescent kid-ranch called elementary school.
Perfectly Scripted
For one hour each week, everyone in the room had to acknowledge my amazingness. For sixty minutes I lived in celebrity. Elevated and set apart from every other classmate. I was a fourth-grade prodigy. Not of math or music or English, but penmanship.
The Crying Man
Graveside.
He’s standing there now. A woman sits crouched at his feet, shaking with sobs. The grave has engulfed her brother, who was precious to her.
Great Frustrations
Nacho is our dog. He’s small in stature but large in personality. Some bark, some bite and lots of swagger. He’s endearing in a too-tart lemonade sort of way; you can only take so much of the little buddy.
Meet My Companion
I don’t like him. I want him to leave. I want to say “Bye!”, “Don’t come back!”, “Get out of here!” More strongly, “I hate you!”, “You’re hurting me, and my friends, and I wish we’d never met!”