As we step onto the path, past the gravel and asphalt and through an arbor of trees to the place where the air grows light and cool, I realize two things: I am not wearing the right shoes for this hike, and consequently, I need a walking stick. Roots ripple across the path, rising up […]

A hundred Loggerhead hatchlings struggle out of a nest. Zoe and Kevin and I happen to walk by on our way to save the world, our hands carving the air as we talk, our feet encrusted with sand. A woman waves to us, beckons with her arm, come and see, and I wonder momentarily if […]

We walk down the tree-lined sidewalk, pilgrims to Knowing, our bodies dappled with sun and dark, blotting leaves, our feet climbing a shadowy canopy. The air is thick with rain that just won’t fall; we glance up at a few steel-colored clouds backlit and rimmed in sunlight. We have logo-printed ponchos they gave us at […]

Outside, rain softly falls, soothing sheets like curtains on every side of the porch, and I sit still, watching. Late afternoon, and God has made a few moments for me to notice the gathering puddles, to trace the splash of drops from finger lengths of upturned leaves, rolling down, down to drip or, finally, to […]

Today, I walk early, slipping out the door with the light barely new, thinking maybe I’ll escape the heat. But Summer’s sun burns and throbs like it’s been up for hours, and the air sits thick in my lungs, and before I make it down the front steps, sweat becomes my slippery second skin. Already […]

The breeze falls light on my cheeks and lifts the flyaways around my ears, moving unseen like the Spirit, holding me carefully as I walk out of the crisp Autumn morning and into the last dying traces of Summer heat.  I allow myself deep, slow, limitless breaths, gazing up at the sky stretching out in […]

In the beginning, nothing.  I stand at the edge of a wide, blank canvas.  From the street, as the first light cracks open the sky, I only see a broad, smooth, sandy plain, and beyond this, a dazzling sheet of silver glass.  For a number of days, I disconnect everything and step away, wiping it […]

Home and kids settled, I run upstairs and slip on my walking shoes, tugging at the laces.  Sometimes the only thing I know is that I need God.  I slip my keys and my phone in my pocket and promise to be back soon, and I move, carrying water, heavy in one hand.  I’m thirsty, […]

Even as we leave the house the rain falls silently, light and soft, dotting our arms.  We stare at the sky, the wild chaos of cloud, the battle between light and dark.  After a cleansing, everything looks raw and startling, new. The shore looks flat, smoothed and then embroidered with gemstones, bordered with old lace. […]

We are growing stronger here, together. I say this to her as we walk along the beach, leaving impressions of our feet in the sand.  With every purposeful step, the soft shore sinks.  The salty sea rolls over our footprints, filling the heels, the toes, making briny tidepools and minuscule islands—our own desolate Lilliput, soon […]