221Dec 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, […]
222Nov 23, 2012
Every day is a feast day, really–the table prepared and gilded, platters piled high, the celebration abundant. All our giving thanks, all our gathering at table, begins with grace. So too, the meal we celebrate as first.  And this the history shared with my children as they dip their forks in richness (I wonder, do you […]
223Nov 16, 2012
Clouds, faintest gray, blanket the sky thick, like fleece smoothed with an efficient hand.  From the window, I glimpse fiery trees, tall in the brisk wind, the first drops of rain gathering on their leaves like gem stones.  And I give thanks for the trees on fire but not burning, the reminder of warmth against an icy […]
224Nov 9, 2012
“Mom, I need you to pray with me about something.” It’s the first thing she says to me—she who is both daughter and sister by grace, she standing framed by the car window, the afternoon sun making her hair all blazing light. Â The breeze rushes in, stealing the heat. I smile, nodding. Â “Okay. Â What shall […]
225Oct 12, 2012
Adam had been talking about this trip for a week–father and son, side-by-side in a pick-up truck, on their way to the beach. To say that Adam has been talking about anything just makes me smile, because nothing sounds as sweet as his voice, nor does anything touch us quite like his earnest efforts to […]
226Oct 5, 2012
“This way that we love, that’s how it should be loving God,” He says this morning, eating breakfast beside me. Â “The way that we communicate, the way you know how I’ll feel about something, how you hear my voice in your head, that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be with Him.” He folds his napkin, […]
227Sep 28, 2012
Something about the way he broke that day reminded me that living is cross-shaped. “Adam has been crying for the last few hours,” she says to me, the aide instead of the teacher, walking carefully to my window as I park the car. “The last few hours?” Oh, how the living hurts, how it drives […]
228Sep 14, 2012
Sometimes the thief comes early, sliding into our sleep, wrapping his black fingers tight around our throats. Â He reeks of murderous jealousy, the kind that killed Abel, the kind that taints every breath and sits heavy on the heart. Zoe stands in front of the dry erase board, not yet fully awake, her hair a […]
229Jul 27, 2012
Adam has a crush on a beautiful little girl—the fine-boned, blue-eyed daughter of one of my best friends. They arrived at the beach on a Wednesday afternoon, and we stood on the front porch to receive them, wrapped in the thick heat and humidity of the island. Â The screen door snapped shut against the frame, […]
230Jul 20, 2012
High tide, and the waves curl deep, pounding the sand into a cliff at the break line. I sit watching one shore break after another, absorbing powerful beauty, the explosion of white caps, hard and close. I would love these waves if they broke a little further out and I could ride them in fast […]