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Getting found almost always means being lost for a while. – Anne Lamott in Small Victories Too high. Too great. Too marvelous. These are the kind of things my heart was snagged on this morning. My eyes were lifted up toward the future, toward...
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Every day they give some report of what he did or didn’t do. “The bad boy was there today.” “When he lays down while the teacher reads, they say, ‘Don’t do that.’” “He got a red face today.” Preschool is their first foray into the wide world beyond our...
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The wood is slow to burn this morning, reluctant and stubborn. Leaning into the stove’s metal mouth, I draw deep breaths and exhale with force in a steady rhythm. This must be how God hovered over the still body formed from the earth, the slow, stubborn dust pressed...
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Me and my “bitty-boy,” enjoying the rope swing. She asked what my sense of God was and it came like a flash in my mind. Levi is my “uppie” boy still at three and a half. Lately he’s taken to bargaining to achieve a place on my hip. “If you take me...
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The cornfield across the street preparing for its winter nap. The only way I can get my three year old twins to nap is by joining them. It started last week, the day after a horrid night of fevers and chills that kept the littlest one and me up until...
