Candace Echols writes whatever she notices as she goes about her daily life. Living that way has landed her bylines in National Geographic, Garden and Gun, The Gospel Coalition, Southern Living, golf.com, Cowboys and Indians, Common Good, Risen Motherhood, and others. Someday, she hopes to have a writing cottage in Oxford, England or Oxford, Mississippi; either will be just fine. Candace and her husband live with their children in Midtown Memphis.
There are 144 articles by Candace Echols :
“The musicians among us will be familiar with the concept of ‘tonic chord.’ It’s that set of notes in a musical score that leaves the ear — and therefore the mind and even the body — feeling settled, complete, finished, at rest.”
“Our culture has some good things going for it, but at the moment, we have dulled our own human-ness in ways that makes the God behind icy winds and spiraling leaves harder and harder to notice.”
“Disorder does not only lead to crime. Disorder can also be the kingdom of light. It’s about hope. Light emerges from the hammer blows.” Is this not the essence of Easter?
“I am keenly aware of the sting of goodbyes. Right now, even insignificant moments seem to carry weight; every parting hints at some grander departure that’s waiting just around the bend.”
“The cacophony of languages rising from the upstairs coziness of this one tiny coffee shop in a small foreign village brings back wonderful memories for me as well as excitement for my children.”
“When the story of who God is and what he has done for humanity comes to light, the risk of offense is high, granted, but the potential for bellyaching laughter is even higher. And one outweighs the other every time.”
“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.”
“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.”
“In a world where loneliness is an epidemic, I wondered what could possibly go into cultivating a friendship like this one.”
“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.”
“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 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.”
“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.”
“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 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.”
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?
“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.”
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.”
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.
“We need the wisdom that shows us how to turn our faces toward the light and bend without breaking.”
“Let me say, ain’t nobody going to like this comparison – not the shot people, not the Christian people, and not the other people, either — but it’s real. There are things about Tirzepatide that remind me of the Holy Spirit.”
“While AI can talk about God, it cannot speak about experiencing him. It can offer no first-person perspective on what God is like in the euphoria of love or in the depths of grief.”
“Living this way has flung the doors wide for me to write about things like the Grammys and National Parks and PGA golf and missionaries. ... And it’s all largely because I’ve now been taught to see.”
The years Kathy Huff and her husband spent cultivating an atmosphere of reading, relationships and recreation have come to fruition now that their children, including Memphis Grizzlies player Jay Huff, are grown.
“He doesn’t care about the glitz and glam of all of this stuff,” Laketia Wells said about her son. “He just lives.”