21Dec 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 […]
22Aug 9, 2013
I bring my children home in the afternoon, as the sun beats hot on the pavement, and the one talks so quickly the words stick to each other as they pass through her lips.  She has stories and I was like and then questions and what are we and then she fills in the space by […]
23Jun 28, 2013
I do not write in love if I do not write this clearly, and with all the urgency I feel: Jesus Christ, the Lamb Slain, the One Raised, the Word made Flesh, the Lord—the One and Only—He reshapes me. And He’s coming back. It will happen in the blink of an eye, but it will […]
24Feb 15, 2013
“What about innocent children with cancer? Â Where is god then.” There it is, questioning bold, just below this image: It’s a question for which there are no easy answers, one even believers ask when innocents suffer. Where is the throne of God, the Almighty King, loving, faithful, when this world doesn’t look much like a […]
25Dec 21, 2012
3 am and I wake with a gasp, resurrected from deep sleep. Â I am so tired that the word tired doesn’t quite work. Â Trampled might be better. It is an unlikely night for a victory. Adam stands next to my bed, shifting, trying for words. Â I’m not sure if he touched me or if I […]
26Dec 7, 2012
“DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) is a medical emergency, and without treatment it can lead to death.” This truth makes me shudder as I kneel beside my son and scrub the leg of his jeans where he points, where some of the toxic sickness missed the bucket beside him and soiled his clothes. Â Sick Adam is strong, […]
27Aug 31, 2012
The waiting settles in—somewhere deep in my bones—laying a heavy hand against my eyes, clouding everything like the veil of early morning fog blanketing the horizon, obscuring the sharp lines of roof tops, cloaking the striving limbs of the trees. Two and a half hours at the doctor’s office, and I come home to dirty […]
28Jun 1, 2012
Gratitude wells up, flowing out well beyond words, thanksgiving offered open-palmed to YHWH, Elohim, El Shaddai, the lover of my soul, the One who teaches me how to see, the One who never lets me look away. Â ~*~ I admit it: Â Sometimes life hits me, smack in the middle of the day when I […]
29May 18, 2012
I live my life on an unpredictable sea. Â I’m guessing, but I think maybe you do too. Storms come without warning, and I fly overboard, plunged beneath the swells. Mother’s Day, and I sit at the table with Adam while Kevin puts the finishing touches on lunch–the beef stroganoff that has been simmering in the […]
30Feb 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 […]