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
Beneath undesired circumstances I was given an opportunity to make a choice. I have chosen to believe that to simply be alive is holy. I choose this, not without a struggle today and maybe again tomorrow. But eventually this will get clearer, I know that because it already has, but not how I thought it would, not the way I expected. A Story A few weeks ago, I asked a.. Read More
Our stories are ours, but when we give them away that’s when they become much more, or maybe better said, that’s when we realize the truth—they are more. The truth is always there. The more we practice this, the more our seeing gets attuned to truth in the first place. Sharing is good, however, it’s scary too, I know. So many places to trip up in this process: comparing, and believing.. Read More
“They say you’ve gotta lose a couple fights to win It’s hard to tell that from where I’m sitting They say that this is where the fun begins I guess it’s time that I was quitting A slight figure of speech I cut my chest wide open They come and watch us bleed Is it art like I was hoping now?” —Avett Brothers, Slight Figure of Speech Dear fellow sojourners.. Read More
Hello friends! It’s been several weeks since I’ve posted here, but not for lack of writing. My journals are brimming but more than anything, my children—the most important books I’ll ever write—and I have embarked on the adventure of our new homeschool year. These are some of the highlights. What you don’t see in these photos: all the sit-down, practice book work, me running into myself over whether.. Read More
When I was giving a lesson on the birds and bees before 7:30 Monday morning it should have occurred to me: this week would be akin to a scab being torn off involuntarily. But it didnt really. Maybe the next morning should have done it for me when I was crawling…more like prowling, on the bathroom floor around 6 a.m. lunging after a bug that had disturbed my youngest son’s.. Read More
“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.” —Vincent Van Gogh What could a life be, dedicated to intimately knowing one thing? What if that one thing is the love of God? (Dishes need washing again, laundry waiting to be put away, sobbing little heart needs me to hold him.) What if I love like the King of the Universe, Creator of heaven and earth? …on earth as it.. Read More
The littlest was howling. He hurt his knee. He came running. Tucking himself next to me, he took my long skirt and draped it over his wound, holding it tight. Eyes closed tight too, unaware how he was warming my heart, he cuddled into my lap. That kind of smile that comes from deep down broke out all over my tired face. It comforted me that I could comfort him, even with.. Read More
I have often made the mistake in my thinking and operating as a mom that if I am not doing it “perfectly” then I am not doing well enough. The other day I sat around the table with my kids, after a previously sad day. I could feel we were all still on the mend. The day before one of my children just flat out decided there was something he.. Read More
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