61May 5, 2017
“What’s wrong?” I stand at the bottom of the stairs with one foot propped on the nearest step waiting for her answer, counting the bits of things–bright sock fuzz, some kind of crumb–caught in the nap of that foot-worn carpet. One more beat of silence and I’ll run up, one answer and I’ll bend down […]
62Mar 24, 2017
I find her note on my desk. It’s just a yellow sticky note written in ballpoint, but the print is her own. I can almost see her hand gripping the pen. That’s it, a small, blinding-bright effort to encourage, inspired by some of Ann Voskamp’s ideas for living given I’ve slapped up on our refrigerator door […]
63Feb 17, 2017
In the waiting room, she reaches for my hand, lacing her long fingers through my own. She presses her palm flat against my palm until all the lines meet, intersecting for a stretch and then contradicting, all posts and crossbeams. Her moon eyes speak paragraphs over still lips, tightly drawn. They are imploring blue–those eyes, […]
64Dec 30, 2016
It’s hard to explain what it’s like, watching a child slowly connect, as though another sidelined piece of the puzzle has suddenly locked into place; it’s hard to describe the shape of that grin, the one that knows the sweet taste of grace, but here it is, for us: He sits cross-legged in the center […]
65Dec 9, 2016
In like a breeze after school they come, swift and rattling the edges of things, scattering papers and shoes and the crumpled wrappers from their lunches. Riley’s cheeks bloom pink with the exhilaration of arrival, as though they’ve been far away and flying and have only just landed home, in from some place now only […]
66Nov 11, 2016
From the basket, another sock. I smooth it a little with my fingers, examining the fabric for those holes in the heel, in the places that bear the brunt of our steps. I have my own gaping holes, I’m thinking, right in carefully hidden spaces, in brutally crushed places, smashed against the road. This sock–bleach […]
67Oct 14, 2016
My phone vibrates against the bar top, suddenly shaking the metal tray beside with a vibrant zing. Sighing, I reach for my coffee mug, slowly inhaling the drifting steam. Too early. But our peaks and valleys do reverberate, contagiously. I lift the phone, reluctantly scanning the notifications. Hurricane could come our way, and just the […]
68Oct 7, 2016
So, we’re talking honest about real spiritual warfare, the gritty underbelly of living Loved, the ugly ways the enemy tries to douse our hot, Spirit-lit fire, and my friend says what maybe some of the rest of us have been just a little too timid to say, something that just sizzles with courage: He just […]
69Sep 9, 2016
Arms full of teenaged girls, every afternoon. I mean, I have their hair in my mouth. Those long, honeyed strands fly in my face whenever my daughters curl their lithe bodies into me, the one pressing her cheek into my lap, the other settling her ear on my shoulder, reaching for my hand with long, bronzed […]
70Aug 26, 2016
Buttonhooks, he says. Buttonhooks? The zucchini in my hand drips. I run a thumb over a crack in its waxy green skin, listening. “Buttonhooks! ButtonHOOKS!” He tries hard to annunciate; I can hear each letter’s effort, the work to shape it with his tongue. Placing vegetable on cutting board, I turn toward him, leaning to see […]