1Oct 25, 2024
This morning a verse that I’ll carry all day, like a go bag or, a staff that bears my weight and steadies my feet: Continue steadfastly in prayer, staying awake in it with thanksgiving. I sat on my parents’ back porch for a while just receiving provisions, grace, from God, sipping coffee while the day […]
2Nov 24, 2023
My friend steps in the house quietly, glancing toward the desk where Riley sits taking an online college course, slipping her arms around me to pull me into a hug. “It’s good to see you,” I say softly over her shoulder, thinking that there’s nothing quite like feeling your arms full of friendship. She draws […]
3May 26, 2023
Home from wrestling the road and picking up my young adults, I take up the work where I left off, affixing congratulatory labels to some cookie bags I’m assembling for the kids who will transition out of our children’s worship group to another grade level this Sunday. The bundles are love and sweet and joy, […]
4Nov 4, 2022
Riley walks in carrying a package, her arms wrapped wide around a big plastic mailer, and I suddenly remember to receive God’s gifts and give thanks. “There is a package for Mom,” she says, her chin bobbing against the load,” and I’m guessing it has something to do with Christmas.” She’s right, of course. To […]
5Apr 9, 2021
This cluttered morning, sweaty with exercise, I bend myself into a stretch that makes me sigh with pleasure. Nothing feels better to me after a workout than the patient extension of sore and weary muscles, that resting pull that draws out pain with so much tension. Routinely, I pull my shoulders down, away from my […]
6Nov 16, 2018
“Who are these for?” Zoe asks, watching as I pour caramel sauce into dessert cups. The sticky, golden ribbons slide off of the end of the spoon, pooling. She’s grinning, tossing the words as though in joust. “Well,” I begin, carefully dipping the spoon back into the pot for more of the buttery sweet. But […]
7Nov 24, 2017
“I can’t–” “Here, I’ll help you,” she says, my Riley, who once said nothing. The kids at our table–this table, finished with glitter and glue and flecks of marker and fingernail polish, finished with a whole history of growing and laughing and living—these kids flat press their little hands on construction paper, tracing, jagged-cutting the […]
8Sep 22, 2017
The journal was a gift from my parents; the cover black, like pitch, like a blind dark day. Butterflies explode from the corner, brilliant blue, buttery gold, every size, hundreds of them by surprise, overwhelming all that flat emptiness. I run my fingers over the raised edges of their wings, feeling the fine lines, the […]
9Dec 30, 2016
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 […]
10Sep 30, 2016
I ask them to tell me something good, something grateful, something excellent, right there in the last light of day, and she grins at me, dipping her chin into the shadows. Coming home, Zoe says. It’s the thanks-giving she offers every day. She tucks her hair behind her ears as she says it, still grinning. It’s […]