161Mar 9, 2012
I know how you feel. Days come when I wake up and think, I don’t want to do this. I feel like the husk of a woman, emptied. I am clay, a bowl dusty from the kiln, all scooped out by the master’s hand and cooling in the ashes.  With His fingers He has crumbled and […]
162Feb 10, 2012
Thursday morning, I push a table knife right through the bottom of a glass jelly jar. Nothing shatters. Â Nothing cracks. Â The knife jabs in more deeply than it should. Â And turning the jar upward on a diagonal, I see the flat, silver, jelly-smeared tip of my knife jutting messy through a rounded, toothless gape, all […]
163Dec 9, 2011
As your Christmas cards decorate our mail with friendship, I give thanks. Â I walk down the road, swinging my arms, telling God how He’s always provided someone. I read your notes, happy to see the curves of your handwriting, as personal to you as your fingerprints. Â I smile when you apologize, thinking your penmanship a […]
164Nov 25, 2011
The last year I shopped Black Friday, Mom and I sat in a parking lot for two and a half hours, gridlocked, trying to leave.  Our bargains, over which we’d shared exhilarated gloating, sat in their bags, looking less impressive as the minutes passed.  All in all, the madness just didn’t seem worth the money we’d saved. […]
165Oct 14, 2011
Last week, two friends knelt in the dirt beside me, the grass pressing lines into their ankles, and washed my feet. That’s exactly what they did, even if it looked more like twisting shovels into the earth and planting a little hope.  We buried the seeds of allium, hyacinth, tulips, and daffodils, tucking them away for […]