31Sep 25, 2015
Hello there! Good morning to you, he calls. He has a brightness I can feel before I see him, even though I realize as I look up that his gear—suit, helmet, even the bike—is all black, like the deepest part of the night. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been staring at the pavement, while he […]
32Sep 11, 2015
I love wide, open spaces, those places that could never be arm-measured, that overflow conceivable depth and stretch further than sight; spilling over, covering completely, unbound, unheld, uncaptured. So today, because I need reminders, God sends us in a different direction, turning left on a road instead of the usual right, and this just as I […]
33Aug 14, 2015
Thank you, Lord, that we have plenty of food to eat. It’s a simple thing he says holding my hand, breathing deeply before God, just as I sit down with a sigh, just as I’ve gotten it all wrong and lost my grateful perspective. Five minutes and it’s time to take Zoe to school. It […]
34Jul 24, 2015
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 […]
35Mar 20, 2015
For a moment, just breathe. Morning run under bluest skies, and the warmth of the sun splits apart the crisp, cool evidence of a night safely passed. The trees, red and swollen, change the tone of the landscape, pregnant now with possibility. Spring comes suddenly, like a first breath, a startled gasp exhaled as relief; […]
36Nov 28, 2014
We will travel a long way to be with family. Dark as pitch in the pouring rain, lights reflecting on the wet road, and our kids settle in with pillows and blankets—two wide-eyed; one quickly asleep again. I grip a tumbler full of coffee–black and murky like the night sky–in my chilled hands, preparing myself […]
37Oct 17, 2014
I don’t know how much time I have left. Afternoon, and autumn leaves wander and twist to the earth, fluttering through the grass and along the sidewalk. The sun makes a blaze of the trees. I stop for a moment just to see, putting down my work, stunned by the fragility of life. I […]
38Aug 1, 2014
He builds conversations out of her gratitude. Right now, while I write. I stop typing to listen, to respond, to touch him on the cheek. He stands just a few inches shorter than me, all bright blue eyes and sun-drenched skin, so golden brown he looks warm to the touch. When he speaks with intention, […]
39Jul 18, 2014
Afternoon, and the beach becomes another elegant art, a mosaic of striking contrasts. I love the seascape for the way she changes, for the intensity of her perspectives. Across the water I see rain, a blue black bruise on the horizon blurring the line God made between the deep sea and the boundless sky. I […]
40Nov 15, 2013
We spend an afternoon at the table passing sheets of sticky letters, photographs, pens. Before I turn my attention to helping Riley through homework, before cooking, before folding the towels, Zoe and I sit together tasting gratitude like honey on our tongues. I press down a bit of light-catching foam and wonder why it feels […]