121
Feb 14, 2020
At the dawn of day, while yet the dark of dying night redacts our view, I huddle in the chair by a flickering fire, coffee cup warm on my fingers. The one hand cradling, the other cupped to receive, my heart turns to prayer. I worship; I confess; I give thanks; I ask, withholding nothing. […]
122
Dec 27, 2019
“You know those days when you wake up and you think, ‘I want to help someone today’? My friend says this casually, leaning into the phone like we’re sitting across the table. She continues, as if our hearts beat the same. “Well, yesterday I woke up like that, so I got up, got dressed, got […]
123
Dec 20, 2019
The young man meets us in the parking lot, at the spaces reserved for guests. Before we can get out of the car, he’s walking purposefully our way, wearing a t-shirt that says, Welcome. And so it should be with God’s people, always wearing the welcome of Christ, always walking purposefully toward opportunities to love. […]
124
Nov 22, 2019
Riley and I sit against the foot board of the guest room bed, Shaker planks pressing into our backs. “How long will the tornado warning last?” She asks me, looking over at my phone, the radar map I’m scrolling. I stare at the blobs of color–red, yellow, green, spreading them bigger with my fingers to […]
125
Nov 15, 2019
I come home weighed down with living, bag sliding off my shoulder down to the bend in my elbow. I carry too much; in all ways this is true, but by and by, I’m learning to let go. Balancing, I shift the load to find my key, carefully taking the steps. I imagine falling up, […]
126
Oct 11, 2019
My hands lay open in my lap, palms turned up to receive whatever grace God loves to give, somewhere that should feel like home. I bend my head to rest, empty of expectation. This Sunday, round tables replace the rows. Today, we actually worship together; we actually commune. It feels like wandering into a sprawling […]
127
Sep 20, 2019
We sneak out on the porch like wild children, flicking lights off as we go, laughter rushing over our tongues like the crisp night air. We open our fists, letting down the day, making room to feel in our palms what can never be traced with our fingers. I blink up at the inky black […]
128
Sep 13, 2019
We sit, Kevin and I, on metal locker room benches dotted with holes, our bodies carefully sandwiched between a woman in a kerchief–silver-gray hair slipping out at the edges, and a herd of boys climbing over their mother. Mom smiles weakly when we say hello, studying the numbered slip in her fingers while one of […]
129
Aug 23, 2019
Today, I walk early, slipping out the door with the light barely new, thinking maybe I’ll escape the heat. But Summer’s sun burns and throbs like it’s been up for hours, and the air sits thick in my lungs, and before I make it down the front steps, sweat becomes my slippery second skin. Already […]
130
Jul 26, 2019
I remember sitting at a too short Formica table, overflowing a child-sized chair, in the play area where a couple of bright, shiny women evaluated my then two-year-old Riley. Riley, distractedly pushing platinum corkscrew curls away from her eyes, lined chunky animals along a busy, primary carpet in a long, snaking line. It looked like […]