Anger and hurt, dancing like the steam curling mad over my coffee cup, propel me under until criticism rolls off my tongue.  The words have a metallic tang, as though I’ve bitten my lip.  I draw my knees up into the chair, wrapping my fingers around my bare feet, feeling the bones.  Zoe and I […]

It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done.  I step back, admiring.  The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here.  I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]

When we round the corner, she gets up from where she sits, pushing open the door.  I can see the cold, straight legs of a card table through a narrow opening; I can tell she has hair the color of straw, that she wears a rose-colored shirt.  Even before she stands in the doorway holding […]

Mid-morning and they wander out to me, rested and fresh from sleep, blanket lines on their high-boned cheeks.  Riley’s brassy hair swings out from her shoulders, lifted by the breeze, as she settles into the chair across from me, carrying her breakfast.  “Happy birthday, Mom Jones,” she says, while Zoe gently drops a present on […]

Kevin walks in the door and the afternoon rushes right in with him.  It’s as though the jostling traffic, the dying sun, and dozens of fading fragments of conversation cling to his shirt sleeves, his warm cheeks. They fall off his shoulders, these things, as the strap from his leather bag falls to the floor […]

Into the bowling alley I go, “Saturday me” with her yoga pants and her clean face and her Mr. Rogers jacket (yes, because I wear it around the house).  This is the me that’s only me, the honest introvert; the quiet, swallowed-up, zipped-up me just holding tight to God’s hand, walking through the parking lot.  […]

I walk and let things go, whispered things, all the heavy and daunting things pressed against my shoulders like so much Winter weight, damp and thick and flat grey; things that cannot be at all what they seem.   This weather inspires every kind of ache; all day the clouds have swallowed us.  And if this […]

When I walk in the room, this is the other-worldly bit of heaven I see:  a room clogged with dancing royalty, crowns throbbing, faces glittered with joy.  It’s like throwing open a chest full of God’s glory and looking inside:  Confetti spins, pouring from the ceiling, from cannons beside the stage, where the word “SHINE” […]

“—Hey, are you listening to me?” I pause mid-sentence, asking because I know what it is for him to listen.  I know the impossibility he faces, without the ability to deafen distractions.  And I’m telling him what will be, things he’ll want to have heard, mental notes he’ll want to keep. “Yes,” he says softly, […]

“So tell me everything you would like to do this afternoon,” I say, pulling a capless pen from the chipped bisque mug on the desk, sliding a notepad in front of me.  Pansies float around the edge of the paper.  The impressions of Adam’s carb counts from breakfast dent the blank top page, making a […]