151Jul 25, 2014
Sometimes we finish the day in rags and mud, and the things we carry cover us like a tomb. Â And it’s testimony to the Light in her that even though she’s afraid to be embarrassed, she says I can write about this, our walking through together. In my arms, she trembles. Â “I just want to […]
152Jun 20, 2014
So maybe today–maybe in this—it’s time to press on, even though it’s hard, and it hurts, and you want to give up. “But I’m dying,” she says to me, gasping, sweat gathering like a halo along her hairline. Â She’s waiting for me to say she can quit, but I am not so easily convinced. “You’re […]
153May 9, 2014
I walk into the kitchen from the garage, carrying an armful of things—a bag, a few books, a coffee mug someone left behind—on my way to distribute these and consider the afternoon climb, and one of my daughters presses into me, draping the now dangling legs, grasping me solid, clinging to me with now enfolding […]
154Apr 18, 2014
Sometimes from the start of a day a dull ache builds, spreading slowly from the curve of my back well into the sharp edges of my shoulders.  It is the sore feel of self dying, the good ache of need, the one meant to remind me that God accomplishes and satisfies (Deuteronomy 8:3).  But the truth […]
155Apr 11, 2014
I start our dinner in the morning so that the smell of simmering will bring warmth to the house all day.  This is also my preemptive strategy to avoid that moment in the weary hours when cooking no longer feels like an art and I murmur there’s still supper, forgetting the ever-constant whisper of the Spirit urging […]
156Mar 14, 2014
Rigidity is a Spectrum curve, one we’ve worn to a polish, fast slipping our way through so often that we know the feel of it by heart. Â After all, we’ve got not one track here, but two, and even though the trajectories spin differently, that particular curve is common to both. Something starts fresh, like […]
157Feb 14, 2014
At the chiropractor’s office, we take up the whole row of cervical traction units against the wall—Riley, Adam, Zoe, me. Â We all know the routine. Â We slip the padded bars behind our heads, rest our chins on the thick foam in front, grip the ends of the chin bars with our hands. Â Riley and Adam […]
158Dec 20, 2013
Early morning and Lights twinkle, the Advent candles burn their persistant hope, and in the kitchen I stand still, watching my daughter pause over her pricked finger and the blood rounding into a bubble at the tip. Â I know she’s crying by the way she catches her breath, the slope of her back, the angle […]
159Jun 21, 2013
Streaks of fire and amber color the clouds, royal streamers declaring another day done, and I sit down with the glory at my back and the warm, afternoon breeze tickling my cheeks. We love Summer for meals on the screened porch out back, where we can hear the birds singing loud and see the worms […]
160May 24, 2013
Just home. The front door opens as we pull into the drive, as my friend and I unfold our legs and think toward dislodging my bags, my chair, the hat I wear on the beach. Â Our conversation hangs unfinished and that suits us fine. Conversations between true friends never really end anyway. We leave the […]