Stories about moments that connect us to God, each other, and ourselves.
The preceding weeks had been hard. I was tired and discouraged. Viruses, quarantines, and riots had me feeling overwhelmed. I longed for something to lift the weight from my shoulders. Chores and bills and the general responsibility of catching up after a week of working a full-time job would have to wait. I wanted to lose myself in child’s play and not have to think about when the next toilet paper shortage would strike.
Read MoreThis Christmas feels different. Quite frankly, I’ve had a hard time getting into the spirit of it. There’s a heaviness weighing me down. If I’m honest, it’s been there for a while.
Read MoreAll is chaos now.
Such noise. The toys
Strewn all throughout the house.
The boys running. Always running.
Read MoreWe got out of the car and took a seat on a large rock under a tree. Temperatures in recent days had soared to more than a hundred degrees, but up on the mountain, it was a comfortable eighty-five. As I stood looking out over the valley below us dotted with shadows from the occasional clouds overhead, I thought of all the other times I’d been there studying the exact same valley that FDR viewed on his escapes to the Knob.
Read MoreYes, it’s true. I’ve let myself go. It started with the quarantine in March when I began working from home on a full time basis.
Read MoreI quickly grabbed a birthday card for my brother, Brent, on the way to our aunt’s funeral. She was my father’s sister, and her passing left him as the lone survivor of their immediate family. Feeling bad that Brent’s birthday was on the same day as this very sad occasion, I sought for something meaningful to write that would remove the somber note of the day.
Read MoreWhile preparing dinner one evening not too long ago, I went to retrieve something from the pantry and made an unexpected discovery.
Read MoreA meditation on spring.
Read More“A table has been set before me, and the bounty that I feast on is not food but fellowship.”
Read MoreI’m not a brave person. Never have been. My mama tells a story of me as a young child of about four or five years old standing at the edge of Tomlinson’s pool looking into the water then backing away and proclaiming matter-of-factly that I wasn’t “big enough” yet to go in for a swim.
Read MoreMy fourteen-month-old grandson and I sat inside the front door watching cars go by. Each time one passed he would smile with excitement and say something unintelligible in his sweet baby language. I watched him, taking in the sound of his voice and the blueness of his eyes. Then I noticed his hair and how curly it’s gotten recently, and I remembered my own towheaded baby whose cottony curls attracted everyone’s attention.
Read MoreWe buried my Aunt Louise a few days ago. It was a cold sunny day, one of the few we’ve had in this new decade. I hadn’t seen much of her in recent years. When I did see her, I wasn’t sure whether she knew who I was or not.
Read MoreThe Christmas of 2017 went much the same as every other Christmas has gone for my family since my brother and I have been grown with families of our own.
Read MoreI am in a season of savoring. Slowing down and examining every mouthful, every morsel, of life. It is something I’m learning.
Read MoreAs the life of the tree passed before my mind’s eye, a tender sadness squeezed my chest and tears stung my eyes. I could see that the tree was much like me.
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