171
Dec 14, 2018
The King rose from the feast table, an action that made everyone suddenly alert. Words died in the air, only half spoken. They watched while he removed his robe, and with it, they felt, his dignity. But more alarming than his sudden nakedness was the costume he next chose. The King picked up a towel, […]
172
Nov 2, 2018
From my office, I heard their voices, the soft, deep rumble of Father training son. “Do you still need Lantus?” Kevin asked Adam, who grunted over the forced pause. What is it about us that we resent the time it takes to grow? Lantus is to long-release insulin what Kleenex is to tissue, merely a […]
173
Oct 26, 2018
In the last gasp of day, Kevin and I wind our way along unknown streets, all squeaky springs and clacking chains. These bicycles are the picture-postcard kind, sherbet-colored, lemon and mint, with earthy baskets bobbing at the front. I imagine mine brimming with trailing flowers like they do in greeting card photographs, except that would […]
174
Sep 28, 2018
I hear my son before I see him. I know by heart the specific sound of his long, flat feet on the hardwood floor at the base of the stairs; I know the circuitous, spinning route he takes from one room to another, checking for me, checking for signs that nothing unexpected has altered the […]
175
Sep 21, 2018
Just awake and still unwilling to peel back the covers, I rub the sleep from my eyes, giving thanks for rest. My phone, flipped on its face on the bedside table, begins to vibrate and jump like an insect trapped and beating against the window. “What is going on?” Kevin says, stirring beside me. I […]
176
Sep 14, 2018
As long as I lay down and drink rivers of water, I can avoid the spinal headache, that thunderous, gripping madman storming through my mind bent on dropping me to my knees. It broods, heavy, hiding behind some banded muscle with its club lifted, daring me to move. This, then, is the valley. From here, […]
177
Aug 31, 2018
When finally God begins to move me and I carry our quiet conversation back into busier thoroughfares, I find Adam emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. He stacks plates and tosses clean silverware into the drawer with percussive clatter, and this with the morning barely an hour old. The coffee pot still gasps and sputters […]
178
Aug 17, 2018
On the other side of a migraine, my Riley begins to sing: From the ash I am born again Forever safe in the Savior’s hands I stop folding and let the warm towel fall from my fingers, listening. She missed worship today, let her head fall like a rock on my shoulder during the opening […]
179
Aug 10, 2018
“There will be a lot of hugs today,” she says, drawing me in with arms growing long enough to catch the world. Her brassy hair falls against my cheek and lightly tickles my hands as I press them into her back. I count her ribs, the knobby vertebrae in her spine. She feels strong, solid, […]
180
Jun 29, 2018
At the end of the day, when I walk in from the shore with the sunset on my cheeks and my skin still warm from the sun, I find the text: I know you’re at the beach, but I just had to tell you what happened today. The text comes from one of Adam’s gifted […]