Because You are One Step Closer
A birthday letter for one’s child should be a marker of all that a mother knows. For instance, on the day you turned three you had a scratch on your cheek and a bruise on your forehead. Your legs and arms were somehow both surprisingly long and impossibly tiny. You loved your balloon. You whined for more chocolate cake. You pronounced...
To Run Toward the Desert
Sometimes I think about the privileged ones in God’s story. The ones called out into the desert, like Abraham, Moses, even Jesus. The desert was brutal. Not a place or an experience they would have chosen. It was also beautiful. They met angels there. They met God himself there. There are others, too. Like Hagar. Hagar knew desolation in the...
How God Came, and I Nearly Missed It
Unless this is your first visit to my blog, you know that I've been in waiting mode almost since the day, two years ago, when we arrived in Florida. One of the very first posts I wrote was called On Waiting. Two years ago, I didn't know what I was waiting for. And, sometimes, waiting is like that. It is a heavy weight. An ache. A...
Religion, Relationship, and Resurrection Sunday
I grew up hearing Christians say, “It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship.” Maybe you did too? It’s a sentiment that makes sense to me. Plenty of not-so-great things (and some down-right awful) probably fall under the heading religion. Yet, in the days since Easter Sunday I’ve been thinking how grateful I am for relationship and religion....
From Chaos to Shalom
I thought it would be hard to fit Good Friday into Spring Break. I thought it would be difficult to clear space for the cross in a week devoted to beach, pool, and mother-daughter shopping. I was wrong. In the car, on our way to the dollhouse store, her voice pipes up from the back seat. It’s hard to hear, the radio too loud, but I know she’s...
Holy Week in the Dollhouse
It's Holy Week. It's also - in our house - Spring Break. Which means there are fewer quiet prayers and meditations, more picnics at the park and kids screaming in the car. In other words, the holy is not hard to find. It's in my face, and it's ringing in my ears (quite literally). My Bible has stayed mostly closed, and I'm not sure if...