Silence, Not Always Golden

“If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a village to abuse one.” – Spotlight “The vocal minority” is a common, troubling saying we have in America. I’d like to explore the other side of the coin: the silent majority. As a society, we’re unable to hold suffering or the reality of atrocities committed…

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The Right to Vote

The day was gray and the air was colder than expected for early November in Ohio. The rain was beginning to turn to snow, making the street and sidewalks slick.  My great-great-great-grandmother Franny, her daughter Nettie, and her 23-year-old granddaughter Vivi (my great-grandma) stood side by side trying to keep warm as they waited in line…

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The Wounded Healer

The wounded healer arrives on the scene not a moment too soon or too late. She is ready and anchored in the flow of love to lean into the other’s deep pain. She heals with her eyes, her heart, and her hands, using words of comfort and care. She knows how it feels to be…

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An Ending of Sorts

I stepped on the downtown pavement for the first time in months, surrounded by masked bodies holding make-shift cardboard signs with words written in paint or permanent marker, saying things like, “I CAN’T BREATHE,” or “NO JUSTICE NO PEACE,” or “SAY HIS NAME—GEORGE FLOYD.” 

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The Show Is Over

Sing it Kierra!  “I don’t know if you have noticed, I’m doing me and I love it. I just ran through the fire. Please don’t judge me.” Piping in the background is my new theme song. The lyrics wrap around me like a veil.

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The Encounter

I lie still, my back pressed into the blankets on the summer sheets, arms clasped across my chest, eyes closed. I cross my feet. Sinking, sinking, not drowning. Gravity compels the air to form to my body, enclosing me, swaddling me. As my body floats, the bed disappears.

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The White Dress

Bagpipes resounded “Amazing Grace” as the June rain pounded the roof of St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church. After the bridesmaids processed in pale pink tea dresses to the tune of “Canon in D,” the large wooden doors shut. Thunder clapped, marking the redemption of this day, the many dark chapters of our stories now expanding and…

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Listen to Your Body

Listen to your body. I have heard this phrase in many settings over the last few years but gave minimal attention to its meaning and even less effort to its implied demand. Bessel van der Kolk writes of it extensively (The Body Keeps the Score, 2014). I have read the book seven times. Resmaa Menake…

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Flash of Color

My weary body quietly walks down the stairs after successfully getting two cranky toddlers into bed for their afternoon nap. I ache for sleep, but I also want to spend the next hour enjoying something that brings me joy. Not sure what to do, I mindlessly scroll through the options in our various streaming services…

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Distracted

I heard the tires on the gravel driveway and called Dan to hurry! We rushed out the door and we greeted four year-old Grace and I swiftly rushed to the other side of the car and unbuckled five-week old Parker Anne for the first time! I gently held her in my arms and helped Grace…

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