cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Mama, can I see Jesus on your arm?” Asha asked me as she turned my arm around to see the sun with a soft, smiling face just below my elbow. Pausing for a second, I was stunned, for I was not expecting such a powerful question. This tender moment happened candidly for the first time…
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It has been three years since The Anchor House flooded during Hurricane Matthew. I’d forgotten that milestone until Facebook memories popped up with pictures on my iPhone screen. I scrolled through the images, staring at the soggy carpet and water-stained walls, while sipping coffee and packing Asha’s lunch. I could not believe it has been…
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Panic attacks, high anxiety, and digestive issues were the symptoms that encamped my body anytime I went to church as I began to process part of the sexual harm that marked my young personhood. I told the story nearly eight years after my childhood pastor was arrested for exploiting children and women through the means…
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It’s those first few moments in the morning that appear to matter the most to me. When my world is just waking up, all feels hazy and quiet. There are mornings when I’m graced to awake before my tribe, and I’m given the gift of coffee in solace. These minutes are rare, beautiful, and embodied…
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During my tenth-grade year of high school, my best friend Brooke and I experienced the thrilling highs and devastating lows of dating relationships. Guys, at the time, were equally magical and unnerving, and we learned quickly that we needed a trustworthy gal pal to navigate the tricky waters of understanding guys. Together we made a…
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On Fridays Asha is at home with me. We stay in pajamas and linger together as I drink several cups coffee. Asha and I play, navigating our steps through scattered crayons layered with paper, toys, and stickers. Asha’s young presence is remarkably jovial and peaceful. As we play, I find myself falling in love with…
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Yesterday I felt the Spirit’s prompting to go on a trail run, my first one of 2019. It was a gray wintery day, and although it was approaching mid-afternoon, the sun had not made its grand appearance. I was in my home office with a lengthy to-do list, and it made more sense to stay…
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I’m familiar with waking up in the dark and walking through it. The concept illustrates my life both metaphorically and literally. The other morning, I arose in the dim light of 5 a.m. before the rest of my family. As I scurried to the coffee pot for medicine to aid in sleep deprivation, I heard…
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I whispered, “I am not my burnout,” a phrase I held underneath my breath just silent enough so no one else could hear. These words erupted as Jen Hatmaker was giving a stellar keynote at the recent Brave On conference. While I do not recall Jen’s exact words, I sharply remember her speech triggered a new…
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Chris caught the flu near the beginning of my second trimester with Asha. At the time our home was under construction in an attempt to restore decades of mold and wood rot that we unknowingly inherited. Our first house, once a hopeful purchase, had turned into a homeowner’s nightmare, and we could not wait to…
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