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The rain splashes against the window like tears. The past creeps in like flickering shadows and I am thinking of it again. I no longer ask why bad things happen. In retrospect, I can see how God turned what others meant for evil to good and my sin into something else....
"As you make art or write, the process is a container for awareness. Everything that rises up—judgments, blocks, insights—is a reflection of the whole of your life." Christine Valters Paintner in The Artist's Rule I sat in the corner of my kitchen yesterday morning...
My grandmother is the eternal matriarch, the kind that says exactly what's on her mind, and feels a sense of duty to "raise" anyone who's at least a generation younger than she. Do you know the type? She bakes me a batch of cookies and then tells me not to eat all of...
“Thin places,” the Celts call this space, Both seen and unseen, Where the door between the world And the next is cracked open for a moment And the light is not all on the other side. God shaped space. Holy. Poem by Sharlande Sledge What if God is veiled by my...
Have I mentioned that I'm married to a Preacher? And not just any preacher,...
We were driving home Sunday night, tired from an exciting day of Easter and...
I can’t help but think about how hard it was to be Mary during Jesus’ last...
I'll never forget: I was newly married, and we went on a date to see the movie...
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