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The Love of God
Our hospice dog passed away quietly on my husband’s lap a few days ago. And the emotions around his passing in particular have been wide, varied, complex. We are happy that he is not longer in pain and suffering. We no longer have to worry if he has eaten enough. We loved on him and…
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Laundry Basket
The laundry basket is the ever-present reminder of the daily in this sacred space.
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Of Dying Dogs and Broken Computers
The LORD of the Armies says this, “Make fair decisions. Show faithful love and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the resident alien, or the poor, and do not plot evil in your hearts against one another.”
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Finding Us Lost in Books
“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” C.S. Lewis
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The Christmas Experiment
There is no doubt that Christmas has become materialistic. What a person got is more important than what a person gave. Sales and stores attest to the gift buying and gift receiving nature of this holy of holidays. And presents decorate the homes of millions in anticipation of the awaited day when all will be…
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The Crystalline Tears
And she watched helplessly as her dream came crashing down like a crystal vase knocked off a table unintentionally. When hope falters at the fragility of life, faith in God wavers. Everything is questioned. Perception changed as if the very Earth shifted silently and quickly and noticeably. What was a firm foundation, has now became…
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Loving Kindness on the Back of a Motorcycle
Moments like experiencing loving kindness on the back of a motorcycle remind me of the holiness of time and space and the good grace of God.
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To Hate is Easy
To hate is easy. To love is grueling.
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I Can Breathe
I am a strong woman. Pride is an issue, sure, but still, I am strong. Not physically, but emotionally and rationally. I can absorb a fairly high amount of hurt. But this week, I couldn’t even bring myself to watch the video. I was shocked at the anger and sheer pain that bubbled up from…
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Looking at Self
My daughter wanted a picture. That one of when she was in kindergarten and I’m wearing a white turtleneck with an old, hole riddled, green sweater. I couldn’t find it. But I found an old photo album of me from December before I was born to June, the month she was killed. The album is…
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