31
Jun 26, 2020
“So, how are you doing?” “You know how it is,” I say, standing on the front porch, squenching my bare toes against the rough concrete, six feet away from two friends who, like sisters, have loved me through years of scars and laughter. I have lines etched into my face from both the joy and […]
32
Nov 8, 2019
We crowd around the table–the casual, marked up table with the glitter from Zoe’s elementary school project melted into the finish, the one so in need of a renewal our paper plates have begun to stick. I’ve talked about refinishing it, imagining the dust thrown off with vigorous sanding, the feel of that gritty paper […]
33
Oct 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 […]
34
Jun 7, 2019
“Building relationships seems so hard here,” my friend says, offering me a small smile as we walk down the glinting road, our foreheads glistening with early summer sweat. Sunglasses, the lenses gold and amber like a sunrise sky, cover up her eyes. “That’s because we’re all so busy,” I say, and she laughs, an easy […]
35
May 3, 2019
Storm’s coming. Days before, while the sun still beams in the wide, blue sky, while the birds still twitter and Kevin and I stand on the front porch sighing over the breeze, we friends begin to prepare. My phone buzzes like a bumble bee, and with it my watch, screen shots and shared weather reports, […]
36
Mar 1, 2019
In the late afternoon, we sit and sip coffee from steaming cups, two friends with a wealth of life between us and crinkles at the corners of our eyes. We toss aside our phones, with all their connection that disconnects, and wrap our fingers around warm mugs. I brewed the coffee and she showed up […]
37
Sep 21, 2018
Just awake and still unwilling to peel back the covers, I rub the sleep from my eyes, giving thanks for rest. My phone, flipped on its face on the bedside table, begins to vibrate and jump like an insect trapped and beating against the window. “What is going on?” Kevin says, stirring beside me. I […]
38
Sep 14, 2018
As long as I lay down and drink rivers of water, I can avoid the spinal headache, that thunderous, gripping madman storming through my mind bent on dropping me to my knees. It broods, heavy, hiding behind some banded muscle with its club lifted, daring me to move. This, then, is the valley. From here, […]
39
Jun 29, 2018
At the end of the day, when I walk in from the shore with the sunset on my cheeks and my skin still warm from the sun, I find the text: I know you’re at the beach, but I just had to tell you what happened today. The text comes from one of Adam’s gifted […]
40
May 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 […]