Tag: dailyprompt

  • Ziggy’s Party

    Yesterday we celebrated Ziggy’s 6th birthday. Ziggy, for those who don’t know, is a cavoodle who has left paw prints on the heart of our college since the day he arrived. His story is already legendary: at just 12 weeks old, his owner was encouraged to let him sleep outside. The fences were secure, but…

  • Holidays Are About People

    For me, holidays have always been about people more than anything else. I grew up in a large family—five children, 14 grandchildren, 11 great-grandchildren. My parents were the node, the centre, and everything radiated outward from them. At Christmas or for big birthdays, 25, 30, sometimes 35 of us would gather under one roof. But…

  • One Letter Too Far

    There are nights you imagine one way, and nights that play out another. In one version, I read the recipe carefully. One teaspoon of chilli, not one tablespoon. The curry turns out fragrant, warming, balanced. My wife tastes it and smiles. Maybe she even says, “You should make this again.” A quiet victory. A new…

  • A Proof That Didn’t Work Out

    When I was younger, I thought I had solved one of the great equations of life: Theorem: Harder work = Better results. So I set out to prove it. At first glance, it seemed airtight. More time should mean more output. But there was a flaw in the logic. The more hours I worked, the…

  • The Company I Keep

    Curry is my fiery friend.Especially Sri Lankan curry — bold, generous with spice, never apologetic. But really, any curry will do. They arrive like storytellers, each with a different accent, a different rhythm, always leaving the air fragrant long after the plate is cleared. Vietnamese food is the unassuming poet.Even in the simplest banh mi…

  • How Often Do I Walk or Run?

    I don’t run these days. I’m a bit old for it, and if I were to run, I’d prefer to do it in a game with teammates—passing, chasing, laughing—not as a solitary exercise. But I walk every day, and rarely alone. In fact, as I write this, I’m heading out the door with the dog.…

  • Lighthouse Keeper

    Do I see myself as a leader? Yes, though I would describe my leadership differently from the way many might picture it. I have led churches and not-for-profits for the best part of forty years, but I am not the loudest voice in the room nor am I constantly chasing the next opportunity. My style…

  • Play and Encounter

    I tried to answer the question, “What’s your favourite word?” but I couldn’t do it. One word isn’t enough. My world is held together by tensions. Not contradictions to be solved, but creative tensions to be lived. The energy is in the middle, in the space where both are true at once. So it makes…

  • A Quiet Evening

    I don’t know exactly what this evening will hold. Life has been fragile this week. My mother moved into a dementia ward yesterday, and the reality of that environment was confronting—residents calling out, staff doing their best under pressure, and a sense of stepping into the unknown. My father, at 95, is still in the…

  • Red Flags and Green Flags

    Act I: The Quick HelloThey’re the first to say hello. Their friendliness feels flattering at first—warm, energetic, almost too good to be true. They want to be friends quickly, and usually on their terms. Before long, the pattern shows: there’s always a payoff. A favour asked. An introduction needed. Something for them, or for their…

  • My Ideal Week: A Musical Passage

    Monday – The Overture (Maestoso)The curtain rises, and the score begins with steady, determined chords. Monday is planning day, where the motifs of the week are laid down. Meetings cluster like brass fanfares, decisions gather like rolling timpani. It is fresh and expectant, but also weighty—anticipating all that is to come. Tuesday – The Allegro…

  • Beyond the Podium

    When I think about the athletes I most respect, it isn’t the ones with the longest highlight reels or the most medals. It’s the ones who carry themselves with character—the kind of people who lift those around them, who strengthen a team rather than outshine it. Here are some who come to mind: These are…

  • How Do I Relax? A Soundtrack

    If you asked me how I relax, I wouldn’t begin with a chair or a cup of tea. I’d begin with music. My relaxation comes with a soundtrack, one that slows the pulse, deepens the breath, and makes time feel longer than it really is. Silence has its place, but music often does what silence…

  •  The Vague Jar

    I’ve decided I need a jar. Not for swear words, but for generalisations. Every time I say “that sort of thing” or “et cetera,” I’ll have to drop a coin in. It turns out I use those phrases more than I’d like to admit. They’re my linguistic shortcut, a way of sweeping a whole armful…

  • Dear Grudge

    You arrived the day I realised I had been deceived. At first, you came like a shadow, whispering every detail of the scam back to me: the glossy brochures, the lawyer’s smile, the promises of security. You reminded me, again and again, of the money that slipped through my fingers. You fed me images of…

  • Terra Incognita

    The furthest I ever traveled from home was everywhere.A round-the-world ticket—you can’t really get further away than that.I left with research in my bag and Duke Universityas my compass point. Duke was extraordinary.Magnificent buildings, gothic archesdesigned to look older than they were.Exceptional students and world-class teacherswalking polished halls that had been paid forby Methodist tobacco…

  • A Lantern in the Landscape

    My ideal home would not be a castle or a palace, but a lantern—simple, steady, facing north so the sun fills it each morning.A lantern doesn’t hoard light; it gathers it, then spills it out again.That’s all I’d ask of a home. It would sit close enough to bushland that walking feels natural,where I can…

  • A Tear of Joy

    I guess I am a teacher by nature.My whole life has been spent helping people grow—as a uni lecturer, a tutor, a pastor, an administrator.The settings have changed,but the heart of it has always been the same:to walk beside people as they discover their gifts,to watch them stretch, stumble,and finally find their stride. What brings…

  • Castles in the Sand

    Every morning, before the dog gets restless,before the world is fully awake,I sit down in the sandpit. That’s what blogging feels like to me—a place to play with words,to dig deeper into something that caught my attention:a sermon, a podcast, a story, a conversation.I turn it over in my hands like a shell,wondering what shape…

  • Fragments from a Conversation

    Interviews don’t always flow neatly. Sometimes there are long silences, sudden changes of subject, and words that trail into the air like smoke. That’s how it was talking with Wendy. Her story is not linear, not polished. It comes in fragments, broken sentences, and pauses that say as much as the words. What follows is…