241
Jan 8, 2021
“Let me tell you my God story,” my mom says over the phone, and immediately I hear the difference in her voice, how burden falls and crumbles, how joy swells. She laughs, an eternal, ageless sound. I’m driving, and still I sit forward a little in my seat, anticipating. It can be easy, in sharing […]
242
Jan 1, 2021
Some say these are dark times. Winter breathes frosty paralysis in beautiful, sparkling gusts, and, especially because of the bare chill, the cloud-blanketed skies, I want to stay inside. And yet, this time of year, I feel starved for light. I hang strings of white bulbs, twinkling, in every room. I flick on all the […]
243
Dec 25, 2020
The grass glitters with frost, twinkling Messiah-lights that will remain long after Christmas. Long after we have packed away our bulbs and vacuumed away all traces of the tree; after we, traveling on to January, have stopped announcing our King, all creation still will proclaim His praise in a language understood in every nation. I […]
244
Dec 18, 2020
The tags on Riley’s packages begin at the bow and wrap around the side, a thin white stripe, carefully taped. She writes sentences, not only the typical to and from, and because of this, sticker tags won’t do. To the man who likes to relax in front of the TV who is named Opa Jones, […]
245
Dec 11, 2020
The kitchen smells savory-rich, of comfort and warmth and vacation, of salty, sizzling bacon, slowly melting butter, and just lightly, of syrup. This morning, we cook up breakfast sandwiches assembly-line style, sipping coffee and talking, our voices rising and falling among the clatter of plates and pans. Here and there, a chuckle, a yawn, a […]
246
Dec 4, 2020
Riley walks through the doorway after school, arms loaded with packages, her left hand stuffed with envelopes. Her eyes glitter above the haul, masked though she is by all the trappings of shipping. Her day-weary braid swings and bobs against the backpack on her back; flyaways fall against the rosy apples of her cheeks. “We’ve […]
247
Nov 27, 2020
Saturday morning, and Kevin and I call Adam downstairs to cook. Kevin has been teaching Adam to make creamy garlic cheese grits for Saturday morning brunch, but we like to try different menus, and weeks have passed since they last cooked together. “Get your recipe,” Kevin says, gesturing with one hand toward the drawer where […]
248
Nov 13, 2020
That breeze today, it tickles my cheeks, warm Autumn winds dancing over rising hills, an invisible thumb tracing the lines of my face. I press my hand flat against the pages to keep them from drifting up. That hand, it’s my mother’s hand, perpetually tanned, rooted with veins like a stretch of earth beneath a […]
249
Oct 23, 2020
Upstairs, I fill a basket with the things Riley will need after her shower–hairbrush, deodorant, pajamas. I tap my fingers on plastic, rub them against soft fabric, ticking off items by touch. I consider the warmth of the night air, how Riley turns on the fan even when it’s cool, how particular she will be […]
250
Oct 16, 2020
When we arrive, the rustic man from whom we rented the cabin waits, rising to lumber out to the door. His eyes are blue, cool and vibrant like the snatch of sky I glimpse above the mountains. In some ways, he is those mountains, sloped and capped in silver cloud, monochrome and rumpled in the […]