We spilled out our heart, it got shoved back. We spilled out. Though beautiful, we were not seen. I…I took it back before there was a chance to be rejected again. I decided to keep my heart to myself. And, so the pattern goes. The truth is, I have often spilled in the wrong places, the wrong times. Being authentic doesn’t always mean entrusting fragile parts of ourselves to just.. Read More
When the fine rain came today. It struck me as though the air was manifesting some other reality I didn’t know was there, and then, of course it was. It was as though it was less falling and more appearing right in front of my eyes, one million drops at a time, as far as eye could see. Air becoming real, air coming to life, falling to ground to nourish.. Read More
I don’t even know where to begin writing tonight. It has been a wild week or so. If you follow along with me here a bit, hopefully you know I don’t really use that word lightly. On one hand, in the world of much talk of which I likely contribute far more than needed, the word wild seems a good many times less appropriate compared to the amount of its.. Read More
Five months ago, when we first transplanted our family of eight from the Midwest to our new home in the Pacific Northwest, we would see deer families seeming to play tag in our field many days. Tag! It was such a surprise. And, gorgeous Stellar Jays, five or six at a time, would flock to and seem to be playing hide-n-seek in the magnolia trees. It didn’t occur to me.. Read More
There are wounds that wind our souls so tight we quit breathing from our bellies. That’s how babies breathe. Until the pain comes, we breathe from our bellies. Then we swallow the pain down to our guts and kill ourselves—but we simply think we’re trying to survive. And, in reality, we are. What’s so horrible about that? Why should surviving make us sick? It’s this question I have to capture;.. Read More
It’s the sting of the words that we can’t form, the ache in our chest and our throat searching for the relief of understanding, of being understood, that makes us freeze sometimes. There’s a sense of paralyzation even while we’re still fully functioning—going, doing, being—but still no relief. Then when come the hard things up on the horizon, it can be enough to send us into hiding. Tired, we wonder.. Read More
Hello Friends, It will be past Christmas day by the time you are reading this but that is when I am writing it. It is Christmas night to be exact and I am thinking of you each who have been journeying with me here and I want to tell you the blessing you are to me and how thankful I am for you. So I thought maybe we could go.. Read More
The color of night falling, when color seems most pregnant in the wilds, gives way to colorlessness. But I don’t give way to you. The color of night deepening with stars most outspoken, gives way to dawn rising. But I stayed seated when you entered the room. The color of my heart breaking as bright and as fine as the morning, gives way to the land called Glad. But I would.. Read More
Dear Tired Heart, You were brave and opened the cabinet of your self looking for purpose, calling, but found pain there where it seemed purpose was supposed to live. You are right. So, maybe linger a little longer? Please, don’t turn in disappointment because what is supposed to look shiny on the shelf is lying there in the soil while night falls ’round. Watch a minute? You thought it would be tidy.. Read More
Living by a river this past month has been an experience to savor. At any part of the day we can hear it’s crashing. This has been true since we moved here but even more now that the rainy season has begun. It seems on the conservative side to say that the more stream-like river that we’ve been playing in rose by ten feet in a few days time. There is.. Read More