cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
On my front porch hangs a red-and-purple striped hammock swing. It sits adjacent to a dangling red starlight that reminds me of my sweet time in India a few years ago. I purchased the hammock with hopes of savoring the dwindling free time of summer. When ordering it off Amazon Prime, I imagined myself cozied…
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Chris and I began our summer with a move across the country, relocating our family from Eastern North Carolina to Colorado. Chris and his dad drove the U-Haul, packed with all our belongings and our two dogs. Asha and I traveled by air, with the help of Chris’s mom, sister, and cousin. After enduring disruptive…
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A few weeks ago I felt the Spirit’s prompting to make a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. The invitation did not feel uncanny; I love nudges to create. Instead, I was curious about the message I would receive in the process. Baking chocolate chip cookies is a ritual I practice during seasons of the…
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I heard my heart whisper, “I’d rather be with them.” I held back a breath, stunned by the level of satisfaction I had being wrapped in the love of my husband and daughter.
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Upon founding Restore One, Chris and I told our executive board that we felt God was calling us to build The Anchor House, a safe home for boys exiting the life of sex trafficking, debt free. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, we had the audacious faith to believe God would provide adequately for an $800,000.00…
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Dusk settled onto Santa Monica’s streets as I hung up the phone. Everything inside me cringed as blood rushed to my face, tears welling up in my eyes. I tucked my phone into my pocket and briskly walked, pretending to go somewhere. Confusion stammered each thought as the dark smog of shame hedged over my…
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I stood there baffled as two blue lines appeared on the Walgreens pregnancy test. I struggled to find words as I called Chris into the bathroom. About eight pregnancy tests later, I poured out my beer, over ate pizza and spent the night on the couch. To my disbelief we were now a party of…
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“Do you love me?” say the blue grey eyes of my 12 week old daughter, Asha, as she stares at me. I respond, “We’ve been doing this for a while, haven’t we my love?”
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It’s mysterious how the seasons of life parallel each other. A few hours ago I left The Anchor House, fully restored and nearly ready to open it’s doors, to then find myself greeted by boxes at my own doorstep. Inside these boxes are miscellaneous baby essentials for Asha and a few things I ordered for…
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I was paying bills a few weeks ago when I felt an uncanny sense of joy overcome me, a feeling I’d not experienced before while completing such a task. Often when I pay bills I get grumpy and disgruntled to be lessening the reserves in our bank account.
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