cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I put it off for as long as I possibly could—the slimming down and organization of our fourth bedroom. We established it as the playroom when we moved in with our little girls six years ago, but I was finally accepting that, at ages 15 and 12, they were doing far less playing than ever…
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Dear Baby, I only knew you existed for 48 hours. While our time together was brief, your impact was not. You proved my heart could expand to love someone I never met. You proved I was ready for motherhood. I never heard your beating heart, but you changed mine forever. Love, Mama
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I’ve spent my life surrounded by people telling me the word “gospel” means “God’s good news.” Yet Jesus’ first words as he began his gospel ministry—“Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand”—didn’t prompt the kind of comfort and joy my friends described. For as long as I can remember, I understood Christ’s words to…
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I am familiar with goodbyes. I said goodbye to my innocence at 4-years-old. From ages 4 to 12, I buried my voice in an effort to extinguish the ongoing abuse and survive. By age 13 I had learned that my sadness engendered pity and my sexuality, attention. Male parents for whom I babysat groped for…
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We were newlyweds, in our first apartment, performing the dreaded church-shopping. We visited nearby churches, each one similar to the ones I attended as a child. Pews, pianos, choirs. They were sparsely attended, and though it was obvious we were visitors, very few people greeted us. So we moved on. I had heard of a…
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I have one more year left in my twenties. Some might say I’m a young spring chicken with barely any life under my belt (but we don’t wear belts anymore, thank you, high-waisted jeans!). That’s not untrue. I am pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but as I consider the seasons that have…
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I sat, four rows back on the right, just behind the grandparents of the beautiful little girls being baptized. My Christian faith tradition practices the baptism of babies and children, and that day a young family was presenting their 3-year old COVID baby and her infant sister for this ancient sacrament. In our practice, baptism…
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In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Kacy Davis was one of our early regular contributors, joining us in January 2014. She filled a unique spot as a young, unexpectedly single woman and tenderly…
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The afternoon air is sweltering as I do a cannonball and make a volcanic splash in the diving pool. I can feel the goosebumps on my arms expand like cones on an evergreen as I sink down into the frigid, dark, ominous water. I am taking my Junior Life Saver test, and I need to…
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Steven climbed into the passenger seat of the Toyota Sequoia. “Let’s take the back way to Holland, Mom.” I back down our angled driveway and head for H Avenue and then over to Sixth Street. The quiet backroads of Kalamazoo are lined with trees and sprawling green grass in the summertime. Hand-painted signs lean against…
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