Warren L. Molton

If God is that sublime moment in the story when Jesus said, “And his father seeing him afar off . . . ” which could mean, of course, that he had been watching every day for years, longing for him, straining to see him afar off” it’s that afar off that moves me . . . or perhaps he only . . . . Continue Reading »

If God is my elm’s great roots burrowing deep for water but, as branches seek sun, might also want light, and so slowly begin rooting upward shouldering loose the path stones through the garden laid long ago and meant to stay, now making my path impossible; Then I accept God’s judgment . . . . Continue Reading »

If God is my usable past, the part worth saving, the minutes, episodes, chance in-counters when I measure the moment by soul standard, an inward counting of worth and meaning- the past stumbled upon or given as an outright gift to which I first said no then later yes with a bless-me-now petition of . . . . Continue Reading »

If God is any great returning, a listening to some new witness bidding within, any hard going back to where in a rootless time you quit, as Bonhoeffer left life in New York to return to his death in a Nazi jail, so that now it’s your turn at the bitter feast of eating crow, saying I’m . . . . Continue Reading »

If God is calling your name, a name that is common enough, how would you know, what could make you sure it was he called and not some other who might answer first before you could decide, or just after you and say he spoke before you drowned him out with your greediness, your need to be the . . . . Continue Reading »