Guest Columnists
Echols: Fall is hard to beat
Autumn officially started Sept. 22, but one day soon, we will all wake up to air that is so crisp and so clear that it blows all the way through our souls.
Candace Echols is a Midtown resident, wife, and mother of five. A regular contributor to The Daily Memphian, she is a freelance writer who also recently published her first book, the children’s book “Josephine and the Quarantine.”
There are 138 articles by Candace Echols :
Autumn officially started Sept. 22, but one day soon, we will all wake up to air that is so crisp and so clear that it blows all the way through our souls.
Candace Echols says she walks the line between “a willingness to satisfy my human craving for a good run” and “a consent to be on high alert.”
“What we name each other, both on legal documents and in earned fellowship, is enough to determine some amount of lifelong meaning. But the grace-filled name God gives to us, both in secret and in stone, will be who we are for the rest of eternity.”
Can you name the neighborhood in which these places are found? The street? How many of these spots make you think of some other memory?
“Once you start to see his handiwork in the details, you notice it everyday. And if you’re like me, you find yourself wondering how many other things you see everyday ... that never touch the conscious mind.”
“How can I do this life well? What is it that you can pass on to me so that I will not have to relearn the same lessons at the expense of my own heart, mind, body and relationships?”
“Once you take a thought captive and lock it up tight, you must replace it with another thought. Very few of us are able to sit quietly with nothing at all going on up top.”
“We can take ten thousand steps, but that last one — the moment when the wick claims the flame as its own — is always something of a tiny mystery.”
“Being filled to the measure of the fullness of God is better than any gift card out there. It exceeds what our carefully curated lists can bring. And it beats the biggest surprise that could ever be wrapped in a box.”
“We are referred to as ‘The Forgotten Generation.’ Which could sound depressing, unless you have learned to live out of the clever quiet of a middle-child identity.”
“In a world where loneliness is an epidemic, I wondered what could possibly go into cultivating a friendship like this one.”
“Team sports push back on our natural inclination toward selfishness, and I celebrate and support anything that makes space for light to gain victory over dark, especially if that light involves a goal, a ball and a reversible polyester jersey.”
“Their blood runs through my veins, and many of them walked in the light of grace the same way I am doing this week, just earlier on the timeline. God loved them, and he loves me, too.”