It’s hard to explain what it’s like, watching a child slowly connect, as though another sidelined piece of the puzzle has suddenly locked into place; it’s hard to describe the shape of that grin, the one that knows the sweet taste of grace, but here it is, for us: He sits cross-legged in the center […]

Days after Christmas, and their wishlists still hang on the refrigerator, curling slightly at the corners where our nearness, our brushing past, has gently reshaped the paper.  And of course, the lists have been moved a few times–carefully detached to travel with me to the store, lifted once or twice for closer reading, softly touched with an […]

Quiet in the kitchen, except for the sound of my fingers skooshing through flour and egg, sugar, spices; soft-thumping against the sides of the stainless bowl.  These cookies only come together by touch.  They resist the spoon.  Fall comes, and it smells of cinnamon and clove, candied ginger minced fine under the shiny, sharp edge of […]

In the morning, the rain comes, and I do what I have determined to do more and more these days:  I stop to see, to gather up the feeling of the breeze lifting my hair away from my cheeks.  I spy a plump cardinal hiding just inside the gardenias bobbing gently by the steps, an elegant […]

So, I’m sitting here in tears, can bearly see the screen for the flow of grace, like the soft rain falling just beyond the window.  I count gifts all the time, because it’s one of the most powerful ways I know to keep these dim eyes glued on Truth, and this one gusts in to fill […]

In the late afternoon, I sit on the sofa holding a mug of peppermint tea, feeling the happy weight of a new cookbook in my lap.  For all our turning to technology, I still savor the turn of a page, the texture of paper in my fingers.  I glance up from the glossy photographs, the […]

The older I get, the more I treasure handmade things. I look around, and those are the things that still touch me—the emblems of love carefully knitted or sewn together, the artwork sometimes curvy and crooked that wears my children’s fingerprints.  Every year at Christmas, I hang fabric stockings one of my beautiful aunts pieced […]