STAY, in the Breath

letters from a writer & photographer's journey

The Color of Rain: My Birthday Song

It’s the eve before my 37th birthday as I write this and my husband wants to know if there is anything I want to get out and do before the new day dawns and I’m older. Any spontaneous hurrah before it’s too late? He’s teasing but he’ll do it if I ask—he’s a good guy. And, yeah, well, there is something…but I just did it. Or better said, I just experienced it… Read More

Believing Lies & The Way Out

Yeah that photo is blurry on purpose. Kinda like my head. I recently felt very clear-headedly that I should delete all my social media accounts and this blog. At least I thought it was clear-headed.

I reasoned that my extreme need for growth was inhibited by a sense of having to stay-the-same in these places. I needed to stretch, but for a little while, I forgot how.

A Confession

Sometimes I write over at The Martyrs’ Cross blog. Today, I posted something that may be of interest to all my readers: “A Confession” in a series I write called, Through the Children’s Eyes. If you ever look out at the world and wonder, “What can I do?”, I relate. I often hear our Heavenly Father’s voice when I instruct my children. Sometimes I don’t *get it* right away but since.. Read More

Living With the Ache for Home

Who knew I would speak with not one, but two of my children, between the ages of 3-14, this week about their future spouses, their future lives. I found in my boys a longing to know their place in this world. How surprised I was to come across their tiny but true nonetheless, ache. I perceived in them, ache. They are aching for their wholeness, and so am I. I didn’t.. Read More

Burnt Toast: A Prayer, (and poetry too)

Wouldn’t it be just the way of it? The morning I have this wonderful break-through thought, a certain breath from heaven kind-of-thought that transforms my affections and makes me ache with the longing to honor my God even as I cook breakfast for my family, all filling me up warm and bright inside—I burn the toast.

I don’t mean burn in the toaster kind-of-burn the toast, I mean, “Everybody open the windows before the fire alarm goes off!”, kind-…

The Liminal Space of a Woman with Child

When you transition from knowing your own writing voice only within the confines of personal journal pages and letters to family and friends out into the public domain, you wonder what it will be like. I’m only a couple of years into this experiment and here’s what it is like for me: freedom.

I’d written an article or two over the years that reached beyond my personal sphere but nothing like this last year. It feels vulnerable too, but that feeling pales in comparison to the joy of finding my walking legs after the work of crawling. The sense of freedom only enlarges when…

Not Alone, Together

My soul is more deeply stirred by this season of falling leaves than it ever has been. How do we all wake and breathe and walk and live and move through this wonderland without knowing? Knowing our not-aloneness seems mountain spring clear to me today, but why? I can tell you.

An Artist’s Leap, Or Fail?

Five years ago, we lost: job, home, baby and for almost a year and a half—each other. My husband needed work and no one in his industry was hiring close to home. He took a job out-of-state, we put a sign in the front yard and started off on our new adventure, with five kids in tow. But renting in one state and owning a house that would not sell in another didn’t work long term, it hit its limits.

So, Jay stayed where the work was, to provide for us financially, and the kids and I went back to our old house, one state and a million miles away. I made a deal with Jay…