A Quiet Place

Noise, noise, noise. It has been so noisy lately. Each morning I prepare my coffee, settle into my favorite armchair, and watch the first few minutes of the Todayshow before getting ready for work. It’s a familiar routine that eases me into my day. However, it’s been increasingly anything but easy to watch the news, especially…

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The Coconut Conundrum

Spanish flowed from my aunt and uncle’s lips like honey on a summer afternoon. As Latin music blared from the stereo, my family would gather together, their hips and feet gliding in perfect rhythm. The scent of pernil lingered in the air as boisterous laughter filled every nook and cranny of the house. A smile…

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Forever-Altered Landscape

One recent morning, a memory of the smell of the Cape Cod shoreline seared across me so sharply I almost gasped.  Our memories of place can have this effect on us.  After decades in the southwestern desert, I still miss the scarlet reds of east coast maple trees in autumn so much that I sometimes…

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Something Always Shifts

Shards of glass rage against my vocal folds as I slowly swallow to lessen the pain. Lymph nodes appear to be working overtime as swelling and tenderness make me want to wrap a warm compress around my neck. I awoke days ago to a raw, scratchy feeling in the back of my throat. Sickness has…

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Quiet Familiarity

I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…

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Choosing Hope

Today, we made an offer on a house in the hopes that it will be our home. Surrounded by great towering trees, the house is a classic ranch-style home built in the 1960s. The prior owners started remodeling it so that it feels more contemporary. They tore down the original interior walls and opened up…

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Outside Appropriate Christian Places

Last May, Chris and I walked out of the church community we have been part of for 19 years. This particular ending had been building inside of me for quite some time, yet I repeatedly stifled my sense of knowing, certain that there was no place else to go. This was the church where we…

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Fumbling in the Dark

As I approach fifty, I find myself in a constant struggle to cover my gray hair. It truly is a battle of light versus darkness, of good and evil, me against my aging hair.  I color my dark brown strands and another white patch pops up somewhere else.

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Breathing Again

A dear friend gave us a plaque that said, “Home is where your story begins.” It is also where we live, suffer, and tell the stories that matter to us. Home is where we are called to remember all that has transpired under our roof and to anticipate another home that will be the glory…

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