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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That Brown Boy

News of the shooting of Trayvon Martin broke the day after my husband and I were married. We were catching our flight to the Bahamas while our home-state was becoming embroiled in one of the most controversial cases of racial injustice in recent memory.

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The Place

Find inside of you a maze As strong as it can be It’s quite a strange mysterious Place For it’s a part of thee. When painting a space for rest And finding your beginning tree First weave out of splintered leaves a nest For your sacred Place to be. Just take a breath and blow…

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Taking a Stand

The smell of stale popcorn wafted up my nostrils as I retrieved my Bible from my purse, ready to follow along in the text. My Sunday School teacher smiled and took a deep breath. Today’s discussion came from the book of Esther, beginning with the character of Queen Vashti. Hanna-Barbera’s “Stories from the Bible” flashed…

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