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-…
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…
It was the middle of the night. One of the little one’s had a potty accident. Walking and working with my eyes barely slit open, I had this hope that if I didn’t open them any further, somehow, that would make them easier to close again just as soon as I could get my head back to my pillow. I didn’t want any big thoughts here, just: get it done, go back to sleep. Sometimes it works, but not this night…
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…
The laboring woman knows how the pain comes in waves. She knows the transcendent way they wash over—wash through—her. She knows they bear tidings of gift and soon the gift itself. Yet the way they come! Such tumult at times that stirs the blood to one of two things: Wild trust or wild fear. Two, so same and so different all at once, it could make us wonder how both.. Read More
Yeah, it’s true. I laughed out my nose when the three year old lunged across the table to steal food from his older brother’s plate deft like a praying mantis after it’s cricket. Seriously—the way he moved was impressive and spontaneous and I could NOT help it. Yeah, it’s true, I sighed at first when: 8 year old: “mommy.” me: “just a minute, I’m in the middle of a.. Read More
All I gotta do is share publicly about my prayer life to be driven to my knees. All I gotta do is talk about my kids’ relationships with each other to begin to feel desparate that they’ll never talk to each other once grown. All I gotta do is try and I’ll be sure to face a challenge. It’d be easier not to but, “You must do the thing you.. Read More
“The essence of a thing is always elusive, hidden. The dream of art and prayer is to come nearer, even to slip through to dwell for awhile…” ~ John O’Donohue, Beauty the Invisible Embrace
It would be too simple to say or think that all I do as a parent to nurture my children through the wilderness of sibling relations is head for the woods. Yet it is a very powerful, meaning filled way I can put feet on my prayers. And it’s not just for the kids, it’s for me too. Maybe me most of all? It’s at that mind numbing point (I.. Read More
In my last post, I began with speaking about the complicated-ness of sibling relationships. So what’s wonder got to do with overcoming that? Brother/sister-hood, our children’s and our own, it’s heavy with glory—a target of great worth. I’m trying lately to remember Beauty in the quiet places I can steal away. I know that the stories of wonder planted deep into our world, and deep within us, can emerge. I.. Read More