141Feb 8, 2013
We sit at breakfast, light falling easy through the curtains, isolated in a moment that feels slower. She pauses, putting her toast on her plate, chewing on her bottom lip. Â “Mom, I’m not sure about the words on some of those Valentines.” I knew we would come back to this conversation. Â Last year, when I […]
142Oct 5, 2012
“This way that we love, that’s how it should be loving God,” He says this morning, eating breakfast beside me. Â “The way that we communicate, the way you know how I’ll feel about something, how you hear my voice in your head, that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be with Him.” He folds his napkin, […]
143Sep 14, 2012
Sometimes the thief comes early, sliding into our sleep, wrapping his black fingers tight around our throats. Â He reeks of murderous jealousy, the kind that killed Abel, the kind that taints every breath and sits heavy on the heart. Zoe stands in front of the dry erase board, not yet fully awake, her hair a […]
144Jul 20, 2012
High tide, and the waves curl deep, pounding the sand into a cliff at the break line. I sit watching one shore break after another, absorbing powerful beauty, the explosion of white caps, hard and close. I would love these waves if they broke a little further out and I could ride them in fast […]
145Mar 30, 2012
We are not an easy family to love. I mean, even for us the loving isn’t always easy. We are difficult, tired, a ball of chaos with accessories. Everywhere we go, there are tote bags filled with an eccentric conglomeration of things—our accoutrements, I call them: stuffed monkeys and calculators; dry erase markers, insulin pens, […]
146Mar 23, 2012
Today, I will hug each of my children as many times as I serve them meals — because children’s hearts feed on touch. I’ll look for as many opportunities to touch my children today as possible — the taller they are, the more so. ~Ann Voskamp Every day breathing, for me, means learning this: love comes first. I remember […]
147Mar 16, 2012
It’s as though every day is the first time I’ve met God, the first time I’ve loved Him. I wake up and I can’t remember who I am, or that I’m abundantly blessed. Â I feel trapped in the weary, aware of the walls that surround me, boxed in and dull. Â And then He shows me […]
148Jan 6, 2012
Last week, Kevin and I went backpacking on the Appalachian Trail. Â I loved it. Â And I hated it. Â And now, days later, I still want to go back. Identity intrigues me, the way we allow the details of life to shape our perception of possibility; the way I have limited my own view of who […]
149Nov 25, 2011
The last year I shopped Black Friday, Mom and I sat in a parking lot for two and a half hours, gridlocked, trying to leave.  Our bargains, over which we’d shared exhilarated gloating, sat in their bags, looking less impressive as the minutes passed.  All in all, the madness just didn’t seem worth the money we’d saved. […]
150Jul 29, 2011
I’ve been disowned. The letter came while I vacationed on the coast. Â It blew in cold and hard, and the words cut like a knife. Â Others have walked away before, but this is my first rejection by association. Â I’ve never actually been in conflict with this person, never shot them an angry look, never even […]