31Dec 20, 2019
The young man meets us in the parking lot, at the spaces reserved for guests. Before we can get out of the car, he’s walking purposefully our way, wearing a t-shirt that says, Welcome. And so it should be with God’s people, always wearing the welcome of Christ, always walking purposefully toward opportunities to love. […]
32Dec 6, 2019
We breeze in the back door like windblown leaves turning at the edges, all of us rushing in on the holiday gust. “I’m related to all these people, but I don’t know them,” Zoe said with some awe, us tumbling out of the car and crunching our way through the parking lot, weaving around this […]
33Oct 25, 2019
In the window, the orchid’s petals drop, crisp and thin, like elegant parchment cut-outs piling in drifts on the sill. Their rose hue has faded to ivory; they age like paper, but far more quickly. I cup my hand, sweeping in the soft, dead things, murmuring about the loss of another fragile life. “I wonder […]
34Oct 11, 2019
My hands lay open in my lap, palms turned up to receive whatever grace God loves to give, somewhere that should feel like home. I bend my head to rest, empty of expectation. This Sunday, round tables replace the rows. Today, we actually worship together; we actually commune. It feels like wandering into a sprawling […]
35Sep 20, 2019
We sneak out on the porch like wild children, flicking lights off as we go, laughter rushing over our tongues like the crisp night air. We open our fists, letting down the day, making room to feel in our palms what can never be traced with our fingers. I blink up at the inky black […]
36Aug 16, 2019
Sunday morning, the plate comes down the row, hand passing to hand—young, rough, wrinkled, busy, tired, dark. All of our hands look so diverse, each etched with their own unique lines. Everybody has different fingerprints. I watch as the bread travels toward us, the delivery of the plates facilitated by volunteers standing in the aisles. […]
37Aug 9, 2019
Kevin walks into the living room, where the morning light turns golden and Adam’s music makes a mini city of silver disc towers in front of the stereo. The room swells with harmonies. Adam roams, a lanky builder carefully settling one more disc atop one pile and then turning to lift a disc from another. […]
38Aug 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 […]
39May 17, 2019
I look down the row all the way to my three babies, now all taller than me–my girls, their legs curving in all the same places as mine, Adam, with shoulders to match Kevin’s. Laser lights stretch across the room like sunbeams. The beat of the music trembles over my cheeks. Even in the darkened […]
40Apr 19, 2019
Rain dots the windshield. Soft new light scatters over the sticky pollen haze, glistening through the baptismal weather. We pull into the parking lot at school, where kids and teachers already work in community, industriously rolling wheelbarrows and large, wheeled trash cans, plunging shovels and rakes into mountains of mulch. They pause to acknowledge us […]