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The Good Samaritan by Vincent Van Gogh While the kids watch TV my husband and I steal a quiet moment at the edge of the yard. Sitting side-by-side at the end of the driveway, the garage shades us as we talk about the morning’s sermon. “I really liked the...
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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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Bare chested, my three-year-old twins ride, stacked, in the low-rider bike. Isaiah can’t pedal and Levi’s legs are too short to reach, so they tag-team. Isaiah sits in the back – a place-holder, and Levi in front – the engine pulling them...
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. . . we are invited to forget ourselves on purpose, cast our awful solemnity to the winds and join in the general dance. – Thomas Merton in New Seeds of Contemplation The twins perched on the back of the couch banging on the window with a screw driver and...
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It’s not the cold, snow, and wind that get to me. Not our house’s perpetually crunchy, dirty floors. Not even the smell of the litter box and the cat food scattered near and far. No, in winter, it’s the laundry that gets to me most, causing my spirit...
