11Dec 9, 2022
We gather as family around the table to celebrate Josh’s birthday—Camille and Ray and Kevin and me with our kids, all following the hostess in the Japanese restaurant like ducks in a line, and I count the blessing. In my heart, every meal is a eucharist. And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it […]
12Nov 4, 2022
Riley walks in carrying a package, her arms wrapped wide around a big plastic mailer, and I suddenly remember to receive God’s gifts and give thanks. “There is a package for Mom,” she says, her chin bobbing against the load,” and I’m guessing it has something to do with Christmas.” She’s right, of course. To […]
13Sep 30, 2022
In the late afternoon, I talk to Zoe on the phone, stretching my legs out in front of me, craning my neck toward the window to savor that beautiful golden hue that becomes the light at near-finish. Zoe and I will meander over miles of thoughts, sharing a pilgrim feast while I hold on my […]
14Mar 18, 2022
Late afternoon, I fold bath towels, touching the unraveling sides with my fingers, thinking of all the skin these towels have dried, all the cleaning, all the blessing in their worn softness; thinking this can happen to bodies too, that I want to age and unravel through years of humble service. The warmth of the […]
15Feb 25, 2022
In the morning, while the coffee drips and darkens and I pour rich cream into the bottom of a mug, Riley stands on a chair, riffling the contents of a cabinet in search of a flower vase. Yesterday, she walked in after school with armfuls of Valentine’s Day love–flowers and balloons and chocolates, fresh with […]
16Dec 24, 2021
“It’s so pretty out here,” I say, the words like an exhale. Golden brown leaves skitter across the asphalt, and everywhere I look I see another vibrant shade–the sky, cool blue; the trees, a sunset arch sheltering our pathway. I breathe a prayer, remembering something C.S. Lewis said, something that fits: We do not want […]
17Dec 10, 2021
When the time comes to travel home, Riley throws her arms around Opa’s waist, presses her cheek against his chest and sobs. She comes at him from the side, which turns the whole thing into a wonky lean, especially as she tries to shrink her body down to match her vulnerable feelings. “I think this […]
18Dec 3, 2021
Mirrors lie, Amor Towles wrote in A Gentleman in Moscow. I had to grab a pen and write the quote in my journal because it rang true, because I had heard those lies for most of my life. I remember it now, away from home, as I walk through a glassy, windowed hallway and catch […]
19Nov 19, 2021
In the picture my friend sends me, Adam leaps, his long legs artfully bent, his face passionately focused. I imagine a crescendo, a bold, sweeping musical phrase building in Adam’s heart, exploding through his body. My son is a dancer. I am someone who dances for joy, often in worship, often poorly, laughing because I […]
20Nov 12, 2021
When Riley cries, she turns red, as though her whole body must make up for any failure to express herself clearly in words. This morning as we walk to the car, her eyes, which were already rimmed an angry color, look pink from the press of her palms as she rubs away her tears. The […]