When I walk in the room, this is the other-worldly bit of heaven I see:  a room clogged with dancing royalty, crowns throbbing, faces glittered with joy.  It’s like throwing open a chest full of God’s glory and looking inside:  Confetti spins, pouring from the ceiling, from cannons beside the stage, where the word “SHINE” […]

At first, Riley can’t see. Bright Sunday morning, and we’re just inside the building where the church meets saying hello, a bunch of mismatched, layered-up family wearing reunion smiles, and I see her bending over her clipboard, too low, too close, one eye flat closed like a patch and the other just barely a slit.  […]

Late afternoon, as the light begins to die after an afternoon finger-wrapped around steaming mugs and my kids home early–bursting through the door with a weather report, I put the glittering sign on the mantle, Let it Snow.  The letters glow, burnished and glinting with warm light.  This time of year, I think about people who […]

We rumble over bridges, wheels rolling across weathered slats, dappled shadows stretching.  Zoe takes the lead, crouching low, blonde hair flying behind her in ribbons.   Kevin trails her gently, restraining his pace just enough to let her go.  Somehow at first, I’m in the middle, sandwiched between these I love–two blazing, two simmering.  The path […]

They sit waiting–my children and this party of their best friends, a huddled, cross-legged, patchwork group in costumes as vibrant and varied as they.  Even with the house lights dim, I see the startling glint of silver sequins, a neon vest, leotards and athletic jerseys.  I slip into a chair and just smile, holding my […]

We gather to pray, our chairs pulled together in hasty circles.  The whole room echoes.  We make knots–so many weak-kneed, hungry children–tangling together to sort out the kinks in our hearts.  It strikes me sometimes, how our strongest posture can look from the outside like our weakest.  But see, there’s nothing stronger than being with […]

I can hear him beside me and his voice is reverently light, soft and piercing.  But the thing is:  Adam never just sings.  He worships. We sit beneath the trees when the sun is soft and dying.  A breeze blows through–a Spirit-wind, and I hear him quietly crooning, oh the grace reaching out for me.  We’re […]

“I didn’t even realize he was wearing his sweatpants,” I say to my friend, gesturing with one finger toward my son, over to the back of the auditorium where Adam now paces, ankles showing blank below lanky black, just above those bruised-up tennis shoes he likes.  I’m not even sure that the elastic on the […]

I don’t know how we accomplish anything without each other. The day drifts away and we fall into order at the table, stamps and labels and letters in thick stacks in front of us, ropey veins like roots—more pronounced by the passing of years—rising from the backs of our moving hands.  You’d know we belonged […]

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 […]