Welcome to CBE’s Library

Tip: to find an exact phrase or title, enclose it in quotation marks.

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Amnesia

regarding social, cultural and political movements is

fashionable,

in part, because patriarchs would

rather not acknowledge how the

shape of the world changed.

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Be inspired by the transforming power of story. Through the pain, loss, beauty, and redemption in these pages, you’ll find freedom in Christ and the courage to embrace your own story. The women of Redbud know the importance of spiritual shelter, and how easy it becomes to feel alone and misunderstood. In the Everbloom collection they offer essays, stories and poetry: intensely personal accounts of transformation, and the journeys to find their own voices. Best of all, they invite you to join them, with writing prompts that encourage a response of honesty, faith and imagination. Accept the invitation: set out on the journey to find your own voice.

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Fair lady with the alabaster flask,
How I wish I were there
To smell that fragrance in the air
All through the house.
And what a cost! A year’s wages!
I would not forget that wonderful smell.
And who could forget what you did?
Many saw you.
Many knew you.
Many smelled your precious perfume.
Fair lady, I wish I had been there.

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The tears of those who love us

gently water the cheeks of the earth.

Another beautiful bloom

turns into a wrinkled seed,

they lament.

Ah, a premature death,

A premature life,

Why must it be so?

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There seems to be a game – that you must play, if you would rise.

There seems to be a game – and with it lots of compromise

You live to impress others, and you're as slick as you can be.

But, where – oh, where – are perfect hearts, and deep sincerity? 

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Fall fountains of sun brimming
Bronze leaves burning
In summer’s dying light
 

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they have come
like warriors
an army
blackening the land

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Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, I came to the tomb. I came alone in that time before dawn, when fear and doubt get the best of us, and when God seems farthest away. I came to make closure, like so many of us have had to do in our lives. I came to say goodbye and to let go. 

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It is rare to encounter people in the United States who understand what I do. “You’re an anthropologist?” They say. “How interesting! Is that like Indiana Jones or more like Jurassic Park?”

I exaggerate (a bit), but anthropology is not a widely understood discipline in this country. I would also say, based on my highly unscientific study, that it is even less understood in the church. Anthropology’s traditional anti-missionary bias, combined with a general distrust of “-ologies” of various sorts, has led anthropology to be a weak voice in U.S. Christianity.

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You look my way, but don’t see me.
Looking through me, past me,
I am not present in your eyes.
I am not seen, I am not heard.
Yet God says to me, “I love you, my child.
You are my daughter, lovingly created in my image.”

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