51May 17, 2013
There’s really only one place to start, only one space for the dying of seed, the breaking of ground. I stand in her doorway–just for a breath, my hand on the door frame, watching light cast aside shadows. She rests, still cocooned, all possibility swathed in quilted blossoms. I whisper thanks and ask for protection, […]
52May 3, 2013
I love so many hurting people. And the impulse I have, because it’s God obliterating me, is to bring them joy. I want to grab the heavy shadows shrouding them and rip them apart with my hands. I want to free them from the grip of the things that steal their laughter. I want to […]
53Apr 12, 2013
Mom, come look. She says it breathlessly, wiping sweat and wild hair from her forehead with her hand. I stand at the sink, washing my hands with the honeysuckle soap, preparing to chop onions for our supper. “Come look at what?” I ask, drying my hands on a towel. I reach in the cabinet for […]
54Mar 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 […]
55Dec 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. Living, we circle each other as satellites, moving in and away, making different bright constellations. But in these moments of worship, we are all here, all present, all […]
56Nov 30, 2012
We walk in the museum as the day turns to shadow—my sister-friend and I and our bouncing scribble of children. Our group moves like an earthworm—fat and thick in the middle, undulating in a thin, crooked line in front and behind. We are multi-colored coats, scarves, boots and tennis shoes, wading into the snarl in […]
57Nov 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. The breeze rushes in, stealing the heat. I smile, nodding. “Okay. What shall […]
58Nov 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. 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 […]
59Oct 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 […]
60Aug 17, 2012
It’s time. I glance at my watch and sigh, not ready to stand, not ready to gulp the last of my coffee and sit the mug by the sink, not ready to see Kevin off to work, not ready to help Adam brush his teeth. Not ready. Never quite ready. Upstairs, we stand in the […]