21Sep 20, 2019
We sneak out on the porch like wild children, flicking lights off as we go, laughter rushing over our tongues like the crisp night air. We open our fists, letting down the day, making room to feel in our palms what can never be traced with our fingers. I blink up at the inky black […]
22Jun 14, 2019
Fresh morning and the coffee steams; my pen scrolls over a page in my journal. Out on the porch, by flickering candlelight and the dim glow of twinkle lights, I list gifts–morning stillness, early light, sleep-rumpled skin, a bed piled high with quilts—while the birds sing. Those birds, they’re only this loud at dawn. I […]
23Jun 7, 2019
“Building relationships seems so hard here,” my friend says, offering me a small smile as we walk down the glinting road, our foreheads glistening with early summer sweat. Sunglasses, the lenses gold and amber like a sunrise sky, cover up her eyes. “That’s because we’re all so busy,” I say, and she laughs, an easy […]
24Mar 8, 2019
At the end of a day that feels like two, Riley greets us laughing, bouncing can’t wait on her heels. She can barely get out the words. “While you guys were gone, Adam told Alexa to add seahorse to the shopping list.” Catching the story from somewhere upstairs, Adam runs down now, his feet beating […]
25Jan 4, 2019
I admit it: I don’t want to go. Here I sit at my computer, working, checking things off of my list. More, I strike them through with satisfaction. Those lines, they could be the slashed out edges of me, the angles of my shoulders, the sharp bones of my cheeks. Sometimes I mark my identity […]
26Oct 26, 2018
In the last gasp of day, Kevin and I wind our way along unknown streets, all squeaky springs and clacking chains. These bicycles are the picture-postcard kind, sherbet-colored, lemon and mint, with earthy baskets bobbing at the front. I imagine mine brimming with trailing flowers like they do in greeting card photographs, except that would […]
27Oct 12, 2018
The breeze falls light on my cheeks and lifts the flyaways around my ears, moving unseen like the Spirit, holding me carefully as I walk out of the crisp Autumn morning and into the last dying traces of Summer heat. I allow myself deep, slow, limitless breaths, gazing up at the sky stretching out in […]
28Jul 13, 2018
In the beginning, nothing. I stand at the edge of a wide, blank canvas. From the street, as the first light cracks open the sky, I only see a broad, smooth, sandy plain, and beyond this, a dazzling sheet of silver glass. For a number of days, I disconnect everything and step away, wiping it […]
29May 4, 2018
It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done. I step back, admiring. The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here. I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]
30Mar 16, 2018
Into the bowling alley I go, “Saturday me” with her yoga pants and her clean face and her Mr. Rogers jacket (yes, because I wear it around the house). This is the me that’s only me, the honest introvert; the quiet, swallowed-up, zipped-up me just holding tight to God’s hand, walking through the parking lot. […]