by Merita Atherly Engen | Nov 23, 2017 | Points of Light
Today isn’t my traditional house and heart crammed to the brim with family, then emptied in a whoosh when they leave, kind of Thanksgiving Day. I’m not even cooking. Oh, I baked a couple pies—cherry, my husband’s favorite—but that hardly counts. There are no...
by Merita Atherly Engen | Aug 1, 2017 | Giver, Good, Healer, Points of Light, Praiseworthy, Shining on God's Character
Oranges… I see. I feel. I taste…. Oranges as a creative writing prompt? I could turn this into a blog. I’ve needed to blog for months. Fallen way behind, doing other writing and editing and living. Blogs are important for writers to keep up. Mine is particularly...
by Merita Atherly Engen | Sep 7, 2016 | Fatherly, God of Our Ultimates, Identity, Points of Light, Shining on God's Character
WooOUUUwooo! Dad’s cow horn, found at some tacky souvenir shop somewhere along a tourist trap, blasted down the hall past my bedroom door. I scrunched my pillow over my ears. Dad had decided this was the best way to wake his family. It was time for breakfast. Time...
by Merita Atherly Engen | Aug 16, 2016 | God of Our Ultimates, Points of Light, Survival
Having survived life in an Ozark cabin, the Bible, in its preponderance of size and weight, now adorned a coffee table inside a house surrounded by Arkansas cotton. “Sharecroppers. That’s who my grandparents were,” my soon-to-be husband explained the first time we...
by Merita Atherly Engen | Jul 28, 2016 | Creative, Healer, Points of Light, Shining on God's Character
Southern Appalachia isn’t the only place our ancestors eked out an existence clearing virgin timber and hauling rocks from new fields. Across our nation, across our world, survival usually depended on hardy folks with muscles hard. Folks in touch with nature and in...
by Merita Atherly Engen | Jul 14, 2016 | Giver, God of Our Ultimates, Grief, Points of Light, Relationships, Shining on God's Character, Survival
“They need help unloading a trailer of food.” The coordinator at the flood response crisis center handed me, my husband, and a local friend a work order. “It’s a church, or what used to be.” She shook her head of gray hair as she turned to the next group of...
