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Reflection
Life of Worship
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rainy day resistance

rainy day resistance

Wearing her pink and green pajama pants and an overcoat, she scuffs through the kitchen into the garage. Kicks off her fuzzy slippers and pushes her feet into dirty garden shoes; balancing one foot at a time while holding her camera inside a plastic grocery bag. “What...

when the bluebirds go awol

when the bluebirds go awol

We hang the bluebird feeder from the geranium hook on the porch. Fill it with yummies--crumbled suet, freeze-dried-berry-flavored mealworms (I actually scoop them with my bare hand), a few softened raisins, and a handful of blueberries. I don't know if they like...

of batteries and bluebirds

of batteries and bluebirds

I glance out the window and gasp. "Grace, come quick! Run! Hurry!" When her lead foot lands on vinyl, I hiss at her. "Shhhh! Stop! Slow down! "G-ma's lost it now." I'm sure that's what she's thinking as the other foot freezes midair. She tiptoes to my side. We stand...

how brokenness sings

how brokenness sings

They found the lump in August. By September she was bald.  The wall of her chest, I mean.  Cut clean from the cancer, but also dismembered from her femininity.  And the healing was long and slow.  Most of the scars, they still ache, when she thinks of it all. Thinking...

The Story That
Changed Everything

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