You are going to mess up, dear ones. In both big and small ways. Ways that feel life-shattering and leave you feeling unbalanced, longing for that one moment to do all over again. That feeling will live in the back of your mind, like chains wrapped around your wrists, keeping you from reaching out … Continue reading For the Mess {A Letter to My Four}
She was only 10 the first time I met her. The same age as my second oldest daughter now. She and her little brother attached themselves to me and as we tried to figure out ministry and family and the combination of the two, she kept welcoming me in. Her dad had passed away … Continue reading How Time Can Fill
There is a danger in forgetting, I've learned firsthand. I think that's why the Old Testament is so filled with the act of remembering. I didn't view it as arrogance, last year, when I announced to a friend over coffee that I was taking a break from reading through the whole Bible. Three years in … Continue reading In the Remembering
I stand on the edge of the ocean without moving. The four are running around like crazy people; no path to follow, no agenda to keep. They just run for the joy of running. I stand with the salty spray on my face, while Tony entwines his fingers slowly through mine. There is a house … Continue reading In the Quiet
It was in the dark of the sanctuary that I noticed the movement beside me - his grey head bowed low near my husband's, and Tony's head nodding in ascent. The days are already whirling as this new year begins and even after a restful and beautiful winter break, it can become easy to feel … Continue reading For When We are Broken
There was never any question. The moment I said I do up in front of that church, I not only became the wife of my husband, I became the daughter of his father. To my bruised and fragile heart, it came as a healing balm. For eight years, I was honored to carry that … Continue reading He Called Me Daughter
He gathers wood in the beginning of September and in the rain and the sun, as time allows, he heaves that axe over his shoulder and chops the rounds small and stacks them high and neat. His son stands in the window and watches his Daddy. Watches the strength of a man. The end of … Continue reading When Darkness Tries to Hide His Face
