Burnt Offerings are poems I started emailing to friends and acquaintances, fans of my fiction books, on December 24, 2007, one a week, on Mondays to cheer the day. The idea was to keep sending them out until I ran out of material, or people said enough. Rather than people opting out, the list has nearly tripled in size, and the Spirit is still feeding me words, now up to number one hundred and forty. Over years people have asked me to put these into a collection, something for them to hold onto and to give as gifts. This ...
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Burnt Offerings are poems I started emailing to friends and acquaintances, fans of my fiction books, on December 24, 2007, one a week, on Mondays to cheer the day. The idea was to keep sending them out until I ran out of material, or people said enough. Rather than people opting out, the list has nearly tripled in size, and the Spirit is still feeding me words, now up to number one hundred and forty. Over years people have asked me to put these into a collection, something for them to hold onto and to give as gifts. This book is to satisfy that request. Hopefully these words will give you solace, a laugh or two, and prompt a closer relationship with God. Why Burnt offerings? In the scheme of the universe, our lives are but whiffs of smoke. Even so, if we can get a touch of God's love, and a burst of His laughter, a sense of our relationship with Him, we can snap our fingers at time and space. God's love for us is higher than the stars above the grass of the fields, in time and length and breadth and depth. So dip your bucket in the water of hope and drink so your heart overflows. Ignore the planets and galaxies that show such disdain for us. After all, we do not rule the universe. Ah, but our Father does.
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