Belonging In the balance. When you stand On a tight rope, You belong nowhere. Not the right. Not to the left. Certainly not the middle. To be accepted. To be loved.
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All articles filed in belonging
Rivers of Living Water
Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them. John 7:37-38 These verses, engraved on my heart, may be the single most moving verses to me. I have longed for the living water Jesus offers—a promise to…
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Finding My Way Home
I wandered the aisles at Barnes & Noble, looking for a captivating story—a much-needed break from dense clinical textbooks. Scanning the shelves, my eyes lit up as I noticed Kate DiCamillo’s new book, The Beatryce Prophecy. Kate’s stories always leave me feeling tearful and full of hope at the same time—my favorite kind of story.…
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A Pinch of Salt
Since quarantine, I have done a ton of baking. It’s a craft that tidily fits into all the buckets that connect with my soul: practical, part art, part science, that is done when it is done. It is artistic efficiency. Yet as I measure out my thoughts in ounces and teaspoons, I am in my…
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This or That
“Is a bagel still called a bagel if there is not a hole in the middle?” Chatter in the room quiets down and eyes shift towards me, awaiting my answer. The scenario is common, the question new. I try to give my reply. A succinct answer is what is being asked of me, but I…
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Welcoming the Orphan
I walked into the classroom feeling a sense of anticipation, my first in-person class in almost two years after COVID forced my graduate program online. Eager to finally see my classmates, I looked around the room expectantly, finding a few familiar faces and quite a few I didn’t recognize. Knowing that group assignments were on the…
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Wisdom Embodied
Sex and food, I’ve heard, are the two greatest human pleasures in life. I find myself ruminating on this thought as I slowly peruse the items stocked at my local grocery store. I start to tear up as I smell the freshly-baked baguettes, and walk past the table laden with various types of cheeses. As…
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A Summer Picnic
I grew up in a small town in Northern Wisconsin. My neighborhood was filled with tightly-spaced brick homes with mature trees flanking both sides of the street. These were the days when everyone knew everybody and children walked to and from school without care or risk. I loved the long summer days when everyone was…
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Tracing the Story
The move from our home in San Mateo, California to Los Angeles was the hardest thing I can remember in my early childhood. I was 8 years old, and yet in my body it seems like I was so much older than that. It was move number six in my short life and I felt…
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The Coconut Conundrum
Spanish flowed from my aunt and uncle’s lips like honey on a summer afternoon. As Latin music blared from the stereo, my family would gather together, their hips and feet gliding in perfect rhythm. The scent of pernil lingered in the air as boisterous laughter filled every nook and cranny of the house. A smile…
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