STAY, in the Breath

letters from a writer & photographer's journey

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-…

A Choice: A Prayer

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…

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…

Guilty Fool Shaping the World

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.” ― Mother Teresa It would be a fool’s way to come to the end of my day despising the little things, the little ways. But I do. It would be a sorry sin to say, “no thank You” to the adventure of diaper changing, feet washing, tear kissing or frigidair stocking, thinking somehow an adventure “out there”.. Read More

Dreaming Awake

“There is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own, but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord.” —Architecture of Time in The Sabbath by Abraham Joshua Heschel I was dreaming awake last night of these things. Today I feel I am sleep walking awake trying to hold onto them. I hope.. Read More

Glimpses—For Us

From exploring Corbin, KY (Cumberland Falls) to driving through the Appalachians in TN (Cherokee, Pisgah, and Great Smoky Mountains National Forests) to NC to exploring the wonder of the OCEAN on the Atlantic coast of South Carolina to exploring Charlotte, NC “the Queen City” (that WOW reminded me of Overland Park, KS) to a quick overnight in Knoxville, TN so that we could go exploring Big South Fork National River.. Read More

The Truth About the Day

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

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

Story Written Everywhere

I see story written everywhere, in the earth, in the sky, in our exquisite form and functions, at the market and at the theatre, in scraped knees and scrapped lives, in triumph and pride, broken hearts and bent over limbs.

When I came upon this place, pictured, just a little ways from my home, it was the story of beauty being closer than I thought and inviting me in. I needed that and even still ached to absorb it, to believe it—in a practical way….