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Red Tent Living

reframing femininity

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Day to Day

Burning life scripts.

“I’ll never pierce my cartilage. That is just gross.”

I said the words to my mother and sister with the absolute, undeniable certainty every 15-year-old possesses. Continue reading “Burning life scripts.”

Blue

The blue of a day like this sits and hovers over me; my emotions intense, my conflicts stirring, my mind racing with solutions to make the blue disappear.

I would say today is a light blue, like humidity. No raincoat or umbrella can make humidity disappear. Continue reading “Blue”

April Fools

Upon founding Restore One, Chris and I told our executive board that we felt God was calling us to build The Anchor House, a safe home for boys exiting the life of sex trafficking, debt free. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, we had the audacious faith to believe God would provide adequately for an $800,000.00 building project. Continue reading “April Fools”

Handprint

The radio filled the silent spaces in our minds and in our van late Friday afternoon. It was the end of a long and trying week and a behavioral health center was the last place my son wanted to be visiting. Continue reading “Handprint”

My Week with Moses

“You are a reluctant prophet,” the retreat director said during our first meeting.

“I have heard that before,” I replied.

I had finally decided to move against my resistance to writing and, more importantly, to sharing what I had written. I had asked for help from a priest who had authored a book on writing as a meditative practice. Continue reading “My Week with Moses”

Coauthoring Meaning

The conversation that evening was sweet, as much a contributor to the celebration as the sumptuous meal and quiet candlelight at a favorite restaurant. My friend wanted to hear what had been significant for me in the year that was finishing and what I was looking forward to in the year ahead. As the evening progressed, I felt within a familiar awareness begin to build, calling me to pay attention. Continue reading “Coauthoring Meaning”

Hijacked

I sit in a room of nearly 100 women assembled at my church for a dinner gathering. I try to engage in the conversation at my table as I pick at my meal, but I am distracted by the knowledge that soon a video featuring part of my story will play. At each of these gatherings, a woman’s testimony serves as prelude to the speaker. Tonight, it’s my turn. Continue reading “Hijacked”

Markers of the Soul

This morning I creak and stretch as I pull myself out of a deep sleep and into another day. Before me today is the simple task of getting to the lab to give up some of my blood. Blood. That incredible river of life within that’s full of information, that will detail the state of my health to those trained to read its language. Continue reading “Markers of the Soul”

Drawing a Blank

Block
by Linda Pastan

I place one word slowly
in front of the other,
like learning to walk again
after an illness. Continue reading “Drawing a Blank”

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