Broken Identity

I grew up never liking my name. It wasn’t that my name was anything unusual or difficult to pronounce. I was just never fond of it. I remember sitting in school as my teachers would “call roll” imagining that my name would have been one of my fellow classmates. When you have a three syllable…

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Not What We’ve Done

We were sitting at a table along the wall in a crowded restaurant, menus in hand, diving right into the nitty gritty of our personal stories. I had known of this woman from church for a while but this was our first time getting together. The longer I sat with Kate, who is a handful…

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Shattered Like Glass

Part of the spirit dies a little each time it’s asked to carry more than its weight in terror, violence, and betrayal.          Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle It’s a complicated truth, and people don’t like complications. Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff What does one do with…

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Settling Into Self

“During Sabbath, we can listen with openness and curiosity…Here, voices can speak to us, voices we can only hear in the quiet. Only at rest can we hear what we have not heard before, and be led to what is most deeply beautiful, necessary, and true.” – Wayne Muller In the early afternoon of April…

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Beholding Each Sacred Image

Last year, one of my clients shared an “I Am From” poem during our session. I was stunned. She invited me into a rich tapestry of precise images, many that I could taste and smell. With each image, I was brought deeper into the soil of where she’s been planted. “I Am From” poems were…

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Glory and The Dirt Underneath My Fingernail 

I hear the pattering of feet and my seven-year-old son bursts through the bedroom door. I squirm, anticipating the end of my slumber.  Every morning, shortly after I hit my alarm at 5 a.m., he opens the door, declaring, “Mom, are you still here?”  I roll over. The door is shut. Luis is on his…

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Heart Words

There is a saying that is particularly apropos of the Colorado Front Range: “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.” We can have snowflakes one moment, sleet the next, hail the next, rain the next, and then always a return to our characteristic blue skies that inspired the country oldie, “baby blue was…

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The Light of Empathy

The downtown central library in San Antonio is lovingly referred to by locals as the “Enchilada.” The color of its skin can only be likened to the chili con carne sauce draped over a steaming plate of enchiladas. There are multiple floors to this library and extensive collections, and the most recent addition is a…

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Who Am I?

I am from perfectly made beds and nothing ever left on the floor. I come from a Scottish mother in Throckmorton, Texas. A redhead. A terror. A strong one disgruntled with life. Elva escaped the orphanage, but her two younger brothers did not. She was an adult toddler who took care of her flighty, artistic…

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