151Mar 8, 2013
Sunday afternoon sunlight dances through the curtains, playing across the table. Â Riley’s fingers tap against the computer keyboard. Â She sits with papers strewn—bubble maps for planning paragraphs, comparison notes, an interview answered via email. Â She stops periodically to move her finger across the page beside her, pausing to say, “Mom, I need help over here—with […]
152Mar 1, 2013
She stands just on the other side of the bar as Kevin and I wash dishes, reading aloud to me from a book.  I’ve suggested that she read to herself, but she says she just likes reading to me. The truth is, it’s easier for her to remember what she hears aloud.  Somewhere, that fact about […]
153Feb 8, 2013
We sit at breakfast, light falling easy through the curtains, isolated in a moment that feels slower. She pauses, putting her toast on her plate, chewing on her bottom lip. Â “Mom, I’m not sure about the words on some of those Valentines.” I knew we would come back to this conversation. Â Last year, when I […]
154Jan 4, 2013
Quarter till midnight on New Year’s Eve, the night dark and chilly, and somehow the stars that always twinkle just there, where He placed them, look like other-worldly confetti, like polished sterling fresh from the Refiner’s fire, scattered wide, celebrating glory. Â I glance up and I know deep: this new year is all His too. […]
155Dec 28, 2012
We gather, curling into chairs and each other, a half-moon twice bonded by blood—blood in our veins and scarlet-robed in Christ. There’s something important about this—the gathering. Â Living, we circle each other as satellites, moving in and away, making different bright constellations. Â But in these moments of worship, we are all here, all present, all […]
156Dec 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, […]
157Nov 30, 2012
We walk in the museum as the day turns to shadow—my sister-friend and I and our bouncing scribble of children. Â Our group moves like an earthworm—fat and thick in the middle, undulating in a thin, crooked line in front and behind. Â We are multi-colored coats, scarves, boots and tennis shoes, wading into the snarl in […]
158Nov 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 […]
159Nov 2, 2012
“Good government…what is that, anyway?” Kevin says this as we unwrap for the day, as he laces his shoes, puts his keys in his pocket. Â He saw the sign while running, his breath coming hard, the knit cap on his head a dot bobbing down Fall streets, his thoughts lost in the loud chatter of […]
160Oct 26, 2012
The day Fear lays my friend flat, pressing her back, her head on the hood of my car, the day her tears dot the pavement at our feet, Adam is the only one who knows what to do. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with what he lacks. Adam and I have a routine […]