151Jun 28, 2019
Sometimes, I worry my prayers. I squint hard, stumbling over what to say. “I have no words,” I mutter. I take notes, not wanting to forget what I meant to mention. I worry about the public articulation of my need, how I’ll sound. I forget who hears me. Maybe, I misunderstand what He knows already. […]
152Jun 21, 2019
Before the sun, I’m up, roaming the kitchen. The vinyl tile faintly settles beneath my feet, lightly popping like my stiff knees, like that tight place in my neck. I gently twist, warming up for the day, turning toward the kettle spitting steam on the stove. The piping water gushes, splashing a little as I […]
153Jun 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 […]
154May 31, 2019
“What else I can do to help?” Riley asks again for maybe the sixth time, hands on her hips, that grin stretching wide. Riley loves to help. She asks this of my so-beautiful friend, who stands hot-cheeked and fingering a hasty ponytail, assessing an assortment of baskets heaped with supplies, a row of folding tables […]
155May 24, 2019
Impatiently, I refresh the screen, tapping my foot, jiggling the mouse with my hand. Come on, come on, come on. A few days ago, I sent Riley’s doctor a message on the patient portal, a few questions about upcoming labs and potential patterns. Sometimes parenting a child with epilepsy, especially while adjusting meds, feels like […]
156Mar 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 […]
157Feb 22, 2019
I see them in Riley’s closet when I open it to get her shoes, that stack of crowns in every style–gold and silver, jeweled and plain, some with ribbons, some with combs, some with adjustable bands. The stack teeters, a proud tower of hats, trying to blend with the rows of walked-in shoes, the every […]
158Jan 25, 2019
Riley walks in carrying her hairbrush in one hand. She’s still in pajamas–soft black, printed with dozens of unblinking owls keeping watch. Her plump, bare feet lightly thwick against the linoleum. She finds me half-together, though to say that can be misleading, since I am never really all put together. Every morning I dress in […]
159Jan 18, 2019
Early morning quiet and steam dances and curls over the cup, and I sit listening. The many sounds of silence include the voice of God, and His Word always changes things. I scribble the date in my journal and begin to write, glancing back to the Bible still open in my lap. The cover and […]
160Jan 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 […]