21May 4, 2018
It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done. I step back, admiring. The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here. I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]
22Feb 16, 2018
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” […]
23Aug 11, 2017
We walk across a plank bridge, our feet thickly thumping, and a thin brown leaf drifts from the overhead canopy and twists down down in the breeze, grazing my arm. In tiny, hidden places, anticipated Autumn begins to set the woods on fire, just barely. We pause to admire a smoldering swatch of delicate […]
24Jun 9, 2017
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 […]
25Apr 14, 2017
We wind our way along Pier 60 just as the sun dips, melting gold right into the ocean. I stand a moment and just breathe, watching the way the waves rise, wind-shaped right out of the glass sea. The pier is a flurry of activity as the city gears up for a festival on the […]
26Mar 24, 2017
I find her note on my desk. It’s just a yellow sticky note written in ballpoint, but the print is her own. I can almost see her hand gripping the pen. That’s it, a small, blinding-bright effort to encourage, inspired by some of Ann Voskamp’s ideas for living given I’ve slapped up on our refrigerator door […]
27Mar 3, 2017
Driving home at night in the sluicing rain, I can barely make out the thick white lines that mark our lane. Water arcs, pounding dull against the wheel wells, and Zoe says, “Go slow, Mom. We’re almost home.” Go slow. She’s right. It really is the only safe way through. Tonight, it seems easier to […]
28Sep 16, 2016
“I love you.” He says it slowly, the way he says everything, but lifting the word you, as if in emphasis. It’s not enough just to fling the words into the air above her head and walk away. He knows this. Purposefulness has been a recent goal. So instead, Adam bends his lean frame toward the […]
29Oct 16, 2015
The hour turns, and my friend waves me over, patting the chair beside. All evening, we have all only wanted to surround her, this iron-strong friend strong enough yet to admit that she needs us to lift her. It takes a brave woman to allow the veil to fall—whisper-light—from her face, to sit uncovered and honest, to […]
30Apr 24, 2015
https://instagram.com/p/1yb3PWtTXa/ At every event, Adam stands too close. I have to keep drawing him back to me. Sometimes I hook an arm around his waist, sometimes I just catch his eyes with mine and say, come here. But he bounces forward, right up to that white-chalk line on the grass, and it’s not his turn […]