Messy But Beautiful

When my husband told me that our sixteen year old had come out to him as transgender, I laughed. I thought it was some weird joke I didn’t understand. John may as well have said Sam was on a spaceship headed toward Jupiter. I was shocked and confused; it made no sense to me. “Bring…

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Awards Day

The hand of a distinguished celebrity judge moves through the air in slow motion. The contestant’s eyes widen and mouth drops open in disbelief, in hope. Contact is made with a large round button, rocketing golden confetti up. It gently rains back down in real time, showering the chosen one in worth and honor. Often…

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The Epstein Effect: When power trumps justice

“While Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death.” Hebrews 5:7 (NLT) Truth: I avoid the news these days. My desire for justice often leaves me with gut problems; stomach aches over the inaction of men, women, silence of…

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Transitions are…

With one hand I hold tightly to my husband, in desperate need of his support, and with the other I push him away.  It’s confusing and frustrating, but this is how the young and scared part of me struggles for control and acts out in fear. My mature and wise adult self knows better.  I have…

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The Casserole Rules

Unless you air your laundry, divorce in the church is as isolating as a child’s temper tantrum during the Sunday morning service. When my husband of 27 years suddenly and unexpectedly left, it was weeks before my large-church-pastors noticed I was missing from Sunday morning services.  And even weeks more before someone called to check…

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Longing for Home

When I close my eyes, I can picture myself walking down the aisle and slipping into the pew. My hands brush against the familiar green velvet cushion as I tuck my dress around my dangling legs. My feet don’t quite reach the wooden floors yet, but they are getting closer each week. Rich, warm notes…

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Push Pull Me

Below are a couple of poems about ways we self-protect and “pull” people to feel a certain way about us. I have done these, felt these and seen them play out around me. I hope reading about them sheds light on our relationships in a way that acts as a window to let grace in…

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Bubble Wrap

At the ripe old age of 35, I am, to the medical community, of “advanced maternal age.” At my first OB appointment, my doctor warned me that I may hear the term “geriatric pregnancy” every once in a while. I think I sprouted a few gray hairs just in that one appointment.

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Power and Privilege

Panic attacks, high anxiety, and digestive issues were the symptoms that encamped my body anytime I went to church as I began to process part of the sexual harm that marked my young personhood. I told the story nearly eight years after my childhood pastor was arrested for exploiting children and women through the means…

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