41Jan 29, 2021
“I just hope God let’s me learn how to drive,” Riley ventures. Her voice waivers; the flicker from the TV only half lights her face. I don’t have to see her clearly to know that her ocean blue eyes glisten wet, threatening a storm. “I know,” I say and Kevin nods. Riley has talked about […]
42Nov 20, 2020
We come to the table rumpled, our various work hastily scrubbed from our hands, the last of the day’s energy fading with the afternoon light. Life feels right when we finally arrive here together; it’s like our daily rendezvous at the meet-up point, like returning to base camp. This table, with its temperamental scars from […]
43Jun 19, 2020
In our many hours of learning, we learn how to pray. I pass out empty index cards because my children, who find it hard to function without discernment of the edges, need discrete lines, spaces they can see in which to realize and organize real hopes into real petitions. The moments to consider, to plan, […]
44May 1, 2020
One way or another, the virus infects us all. In conversation, we make lists without realizing it: lists of things we can’t do, how this quarantine limits, what it takes away, our disagreements with decision-makers. In place of the usual discourse about our venturing lives, in place of thanks-giving or our witness to excellent and […]
45Jan 31, 2020
Home from a walk and still smelling like outside, that fresh blend of newborn and dying things, we walk into the living room. The Winter chill still pinks our cheeks. I know, because I see it still blooming on Kevin’s face as he shrugs off his extra layers, as I bend to plant a light […]
46Jan 3, 2020
In the middle of prayer, my friends and I huddled holy around that old table, I hear Riley on the stairs. “Yes,” she says, her pure voice rising sweet with ours, her assent like a clasping hand, an enveloping arm. It’s as though she’s come upon our group hug and wrapped herself around us. And […]
47Aug 2, 2019
I slide my thumbs over the curves of an apple, holding it under the tap. Water splashes over Granny Smith green, green like early leaves with sun shining through. Before slicing in, before bruising the fruity flesh, I wash. The water chills my thumbs, my palms. Zoe leans on the bar, suddenly open, telling me […]
48Jul 19, 2019
My friend and I, we walk, and I tell her about Riley’s last seizure, the words tumbling from my mouth in a rush. The story’s only hours old; it happened the night before, so this is how I’m doing. My friend listens intently, nodding a little in encouragement when I look at her, gasping in […]
49Jul 12, 2019
My foot sits right next to Kevin’s under the table; I can feel the warmth of him. I glance away from my book, watching the rise and fall of his chest, noticing that he has begun to pray. His peaceful eyes shut out the world. Years into my own relationship with God, I finally understand […]
50Jul 5, 2019
“I don’t know what to say,” Riley says, something very likely often true, only now, while my knees carve moons in the carpet beside her bed, she feels vulnerable enough to admit it. I smooth Riley’s hair with my hand, playing with the tiny, curling strands about her ears, thinking that the only thing she […]