As summer nears, my anticipation grows. These are the months I nurse my addiction to books, indulging my list and pairing sun and hammocks with words.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
As summer nears, my anticipation grows. These are the months I nurse my addiction to books, indulging my list and pairing sun and hammocks with words.
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I’m in a bible study this semester and one of the assignments was to write a Psalm. We had to think about who God is, who we are, and the things we are thinking about God.
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I sit on my yoga mat in the dim studio. The morning sun sends shafts of light spilling across the hardwood floor, and one by one, people drift in and unroll their mats around me. Soft music plays in the otherwise quiet room.
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“You do not write the best you can for the sake of art, but for the sake of returning your talent increased to the invisible God, to use or not use as He sees fit.” –Flannery O’Connor I remember sitting in the post office parking lot that day, the heat of mid May filling my…
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A few months ago my piano teacher asked me to pick out a song in the key of B flat major.
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When I first read the question, “Can I Come?” the next phrase that carried into my thoughts was, “And Will I Bring Myself Fully?”
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If it weren’t for second chances we’d all be alone. –Gregory Alan Isakov
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Dear Eighteen, Here you are. Yesterday’s child is today’s legal adult, and yet, nothing has really changed.
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The silence is profound as I walk quietly among the giant trees in the deep forest. Footsteps muffled in the thick moss.
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My husband has not been able to quit listening to Tracy Chapman’s greatest hits album.
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