One of my favorite Bible stories is that of Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb. Her grief still fresh and sharp, she believes a visit to Jesus’ burial site promises a private space to mourn. But when Mary arrives, the stone has been rolled away. The perfume still lingers, but the grave is empty, saveContinue reading “Eyes for Easter”
Advice to myself at the close of a pandemic
Be gentle with yourself. // Listen closely to your heart …
At home together (a tiny love story)
The first notable thing about Jay was his hair: shockingly blonde and spiky. The second: He was late to class on day one, strolling in during introductions. The only open seat was next to me, so he took it. His very presence shifted the air from stale to charged.
He is four
He is brightness and joy, // the glow of the warm sun // rupturing cloud cover.
Miracles in the year of pandemic
In the year of pandemic, we could linger in bed on a Tuesday morning and discuss our dreams. Stay in our pajamas. Savor juicy blueberry pancakes and the view outside our bay window. Beyond the glass is a tree I never used to notice — red pinpricks fleck its branches in early spring before becoming pale green buds that unfurl into cream-colored blossoms.
Heroes and villains
All I can think of is the news — the violence at our nation’s Capitol, the security breaches, the deaths, the racism on display. Worry lodges itself in my stomach while I scroll, scroll, scroll, searching for answers. The question I keep coming back to: Who have we become? My son only wants to talkContinue reading “Heroes and villains”
A slant of Light
It’s my birthday. As I write, I am wondering what wisdom I have to share after 35 revolutions ’round the sun. Probably something about motherhood or paying attention. Or how to listen, how to make peace with your body, how to spot a seed of faith in a field of doubt. Those are essays I’ll write someday,
Hungry for stories
The vent above the laundry room, located directly beneath my bedroom window, was the best spot in the house for reading.
The alchemy of delight
It’s raining again. Gray drenches the sky and crimson leaves confetti slick sidewalks. I sit in my orange writing chair finishing an assignment when my preschooler pretzels his body over mine, presses his face in close and demands, “Dance with me! Dance with me!”
some signs of hope in 2020 (a list)
dogs, especially puppies,
the friend who texted, “everything ok?” when you didn’t show up…