If you are not a person who randomly scribbles notes in journals, in tiny booklets lost in the bottom of your purse, and on the backs of envelopes of bills you forgot to pay you might not understand this. If you do not find yourself saving little bits of poetry in your phone, dog-earring pages …
Three years ago I wrote this, exhausted by the life I was trying to hold together. I was crumbling under the weight of the expectations I put on myself, that the world was only too happy to reinforce. I was one big paper cut and the world was a lemon. However, one night in my …
I was a “gifted” little kid. The kind who got to get out of class to sit in a room with other gifted kids and do special gifted things. I was a little snob. I was a people pleasing little kid. The kind who never got corrected by a teacher and rarely by a parent. …
Technology and social media have this lovely little trick of reminding you exactly what you were doing on this day in past years. These last few days have been interesting to relive. Last year I was walking through the heartbreaking tragedy of divorce. Divorce can be such an isolating thing, causing a tidal wave of …
In truth I am not a very strong person. When I was a child I was so sickly and weak that my dad said he remembers placing me in my crib, looking down at me crying, and giving me to God. He told God that He could take me if he wanted because my dad …
Has the Lord ever asked you a question and you know the right answer and your answer are not the same? The Lord is really good at asking simple questions that cannot be answered because the answer is too difficult to bear, let alone say out loud. Like the rich young ruler who went away …
When I was a little girl I wanted to get married young, be a missionary, and have so very many kids. Check. Check. Check. And honestly, I was proud of it. I did exactly what I set about to do. I was serving the Lord (I mean, I am sure God appreciated all I was …
“Sometimes, at the dinner table, a man might get up and go outside and walk and walk, simply because there’s somewhere in the East a church. And his own children consider him dead. Yet another, who dies in his own house, stays put, living on in his table and glass, so that this time it’s …
A friend asked me recently if I wrote a book what would it be about. I said, “I don’t know. Grief and other lovely things, I suppose.” That is said without an ounce of sarcasm, by the way. I have been in a season of grief for a while—the kind of grief that was at …
reconciling things 