. . . he won’t scatter Hot Wheels like breadcrumbs near the baseboards, in the bookshelves or across the coffee table.
36 truths for my 36th year
The truth is, I’ve always ached to love and be loved, but I wrestle with loving myself. Hearing my own melody helped me see my innate holiness — made in God’s image, blessed and broken, sinner and saint.
The gifts of waiting (newsletter sneak peek)
Here we are in Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas. It’s a season when Christians anticipate celebrating Jesus’ birth and the promise he will come again. It’s also a time when people of varied beliefs practice waiting. But what does it mean to wait?
Holiday permission slips
You have permission…
To find hope in the holidays. To relish each merry moment you can muster — the sacredness of lit candles, the comfort of reunions with friends and relatives, the bliss of giving and receiving.
A few things I love
I love it when the clouds are painted cotton candy pink . . .
Diary of another day
Something miraculous and mysterious happens when we voice our stories — we give others permission to claim theirs too.
To my husband of nine years
Standing across from you in our college chapel, I feel more than luck. I feel fluttering in my chest — not fear or nerves, rather, an awakening.
Who I’ve been
I’ve been Alice, cradling close the lifelong pain of a childhood accident…
Small graces on a fall morning
Sunlight slices through the night, washing the world in color.
Why I write
Why do cicadas hum? / Why do chickadees whistle? / Why do coyotes cock their heads and howl
/ in the vast darkness?
Erin Strybis 