Russell A. Cardwell Online

I had a meeting at 6:30 this morning. The guy said, “You don’t look the same at 6:30 as you do at 8.”

Remember Odo, from Deep Space Nine? The guy that became a gelatinous mass and slept in a bucket? That’s the way I am. It takes me a couple of hours to assume my human form. Until then my outlines may be a little blurry.

• If God is the Potter …
• Music’s Only Purpose
• Co-workers with God
• The Object of Government
• Weird Search Engine Phrases

What happens to the candleglow when it reaches the edge of darkness? How is it that an orb of ruddy candlelight gathers into itself, huddling to ward away the shadows? And those shadows and things whose rich saturnine colors dim like cooling lava, thicker than mud, red brown, murky, do not demur to undulate slowly in the gloom. Menacing. Not with carnivorous rage, the healthy blood lust of the living predator for the living prey. But with brooding. Dark resentment. A glowering envy of geological patience. The slow creeping eternal envy of the dark and lifeless, the immutable and derelict, the lost and unsearched for, the missing but unmissed. That kind of envy! The unquenchable loathing of the dark and torpid for the light and agile simply because it is light and agile.

• Light from Darkness
• Never Doubt in the Darkness
• Blessed?
• Your Love . . .
• Wait for the Lord