I am a lame writer. Rather a limping writer (a useful distinction). I limp on two counts.

Childhood polio rearranged a foot and leg for me. I physically limp. My other limp is more internal. I walk through life a somewhat crippled person. Still, I find strength and I walk. Even with purpose. I actually run a little. Yes, with a limp.

Maybe you have a limp. Whether pronounced or barely noticed, most of us have one. Perhaps more than one.

Postings here are short narratives of imperfect treks toward worthy places. I hobble forward in your good company, my tentative limbs hauling me to Berkeley where I was born. They carry me to Oklahoma hay fields and on to the Great Rift Valley of Africa.

On my treks I’ve happened upon nuggets of truth. For me, real gems. Their gleaming sparkle captured my attention on unlikely terrain. I have grappled over reasons for my limping. At times I’ve regarded it with resentment. In the end, though, I’ve embraced my limping for what it has become – an old, sometimes cantankerous, friend.

Thank you for visiting here. I hope you’ll return to read more. Comments are welcome. Thanks too, for your kindness – especially should you find any of the writing to be lame.

This scripture reflects my purpose in writing.

Give praise to the Lord , proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done. . . tell of all his wonderful acts.   Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.  -1 Chronicles 16:8-10