Mysterious Ways

Mysterious Ways

God moves in a mysterious ways; His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.  Old hymn

My writing career began in 1962 through a remarkable chain of events, beginning with a three-hour stint one night in Alaska. It followed a winding path, heeded by a select few. I could not have dreamed in ’62 how one day technology would broaden my connections. It seems I may have some distance yet to go.

Poet Longfellow set forth my writing philosophy from the first published piece to the words I write now:

I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where; / For, so swiftly it flew, the sight could not follow it in its flight.  /  I breathed a song into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where; /  For who has sight so keen and strong, that it can follow the flight of song? /  Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; /  And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

In 1986, Elsie and I took early retirement to pursue a dream: to tell the stories of quiet servants of the faith we met in our wanderings. We put together the Wordshed Mission to achieve that goal. We’d give half the books to those we wrote about, the other half to friends and relatives. We’d lean on interim-pastor income to fund each project.

Mysterious Ways tracks that mission from its first days to now.  You can follow the story at

Old Grandpa Lloyd