I remember reading Kathleen Norris’ slim volume called The Quotidian Mysteries, where she talks about washing dishes as an entrance into the holy. And reading Ann Voskamp and her contemplation of the views outside of her kitchen window as moments of experiencing the goodness of God that she would number as gifts. It all felt…
I ease my body into this new body of water, the snap-and-go tub in our new home, 1000 miles from our last, the one under the cover of mountains. And I remember how I’ve eased my aching body into bathtubs: the one they finally let me get into when I was being induced with my…
My heart is full tonight. It is a hot, humid evening after a hot, humid day. My house looks as thought it has been hit by a major storm and I realize in a very deep part of myself that there is truly no use trying to clean up for years to come; to put…
A true survivor. That’s what I think of when I remember my maternal grandmother. She was a woman who experienced being left behind when, as a young bride, her husband sailed for America for a better life for his family; a tragic mishap in which her firstborn daughter was severely burned as an infant; traveling…
When I was young my grandma called it, “going home.” We would pile books and our pillows into the backseat and watch cities and farms go by on our nine hour drive from Georgia to the small-town in Indiana where my grandparents grew up. I visited cousins and went from house to house in this…
I felt so guilty at the close of the day, headed to a farm with friends to grill, and dream, around a fire pit. I knew I would feast on beauty in all its forms – relationships, food, and nature – and had spent the day similarly. Intentionally carving out space of time to attend…
I am insecure. Way more than I’d like to admit. Way more. When we get home from parties, I replay social interactions in my head because I’m afraid I might have said something strange or wrong or unintentionally hurtful. Often I find myself hesitating to initiate conversations because I convince myself that the other person wouldn’t…
“To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me…” The first time I ever felt my chest tighten like it could cut off…
My mediation partner Sig Cohen and I are in the final stretch of a book tentatively called How Do You Want to be Remembered? In some respects this is a “how-to” book complete with its share of lists like, “Ten rules for …“ But I wanted it to be more than practical advice; I wanted…
When I began blogging it was a very solitary experience. Yes, I was putting work out there for the internet to see, but for the most part it was largely written in isolation and then sent out to a void with very little feedback. Which was fine at first. Still is much of the time,…
“When women were birds…we knew our greatest freedom was in taking flight at night, when we could steal the heavenly darkness for ourselves, navigating through the intelligence of our own stars and the constellations of our own making….” —Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds I’m a stay-at-home mom to three sons (ages 6,…