61Dec 9, 2016
In like a breeze after school they come, swift and rattling the edges of things, scattering papers and shoes and the crumpled wrappers from their lunches. Riley’s cheeks bloom pink with the exhilaration of arrival, as though they’ve been far away and flying and have only just landed home, in from some place now only […]
62Nov 11, 2016
From the basket, another sock. I smooth it a little with my fingers, examining the fabric for those holes in the heel, in the places that bear the brunt of our steps. I have my own gaping holes, I’m thinking, right in carefully hidden spaces, in brutally crushed places, smashed against the road. This sock–bleach […]
63Oct 14, 2016
My phone vibrates against the bar top, suddenly shaking the metal tray beside with a vibrant zing. Sighing, I reach for my coffee mug, slowly inhaling the drifting steam. Too early. But our peaks and valleys do reverberate, contagiously. I lift the phone, reluctantly scanning the notifications. Hurricane could come our way, and just the […]
64Oct 7, 2016
So, we’re talking honest about real spiritual warfare, the gritty underbelly of living Loved, the ugly ways the enemy tries to douse our hot, Spirit-lit fire, and my friend says what maybe some of the rest of us have been just a little too timid to say, something that just sizzles with courage: He just […]
65Aug 26, 2016
Buttonhooks, he says. Buttonhooks? The zucchini in my hand drips. I run a thumb over a crack in its waxy green skin, listening. “Buttonhooks! ButtonHOOKS!” He tries hard to annunciate; I can hear each letter’s effort, the work to shape it with his tongue. Placing vegetable on cutting board, I turn toward him, leaning to see […]
66Aug 12, 2016
“Where are you going?” He asks, in a voice muffled with sleep, a voice just on the edge of awareness. My hand stills on the doorknob. I turn back toward him, not much more than a shadow. “I’m goi–I can’t sleep.” My voice falls lightly. “I need to—I don’t want to keep you awake,” I […]
67Jul 15, 2016
In the dark, we slide our feet into flip flops, creeping out the door with steamy mugs of coffee balanced in our hands, with plump towels draped and dangling from our arms. Whispering, we search the sky for signs of first light, for wisps of cotton-candy pink. Carefully we descend the stairs, touching foot […]
68Jun 24, 2016
I love the light when it’s fresh at the start of the day. It’s like a clean window we’ve not yet touched with our fingers; like the diaphanous edges of some sacred space. Sitting on the porch in the morning feels like resting in the palm of God’s hand as He slowly opens his fingers. This […]
69Jun 10, 2016
Here we are in the thick of the morning rush, my foot pump, pump, pumping the break, and she asks, “Mom, what are your plans for today?” We move along the roadway like a pebble in a clogged stream, jerking irregularly, moving one moment and then suddenly not. It feels as though I have to […]
70Jun 3, 2016
I walk in from my first round of morning carpool, and she sits at the bar, twisting a long ribbon of brassy hair around her finger. Through the open door that extends our home past the threshhold and anchors it truly as part of a much broader world, I can hear the birds tweeting madly, […]