cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I remember my grandma‘s white lace curtains hanging over the windows in her bedroom. I would stare at them with tear-stained eyes as I sat on her bed, telling her of my sorrows and loss. It didn’t matter if I was 8 or 38 years old; she would listen compassionately and then touch my shoulder…
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Should I stay or should I go? Here’s an interesting thing: Just when I was accepting what I thought my clear understanding was, based on experience—that I could never, never, ever go back—there was a shift of awareness that this time, in this place, for so many reasons, it was time to turn around and…
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We were newlyweds, in our first apartment, performing the dreaded church-shopping. We visited nearby churches, each one similar to the ones I attended as a child. Pews, pianos, choirs. They were sparsely attended, and though it was obvious we were visitors, very few people greeted us. So we moved on. I had heard of a…
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In early 2020, while COVID and civil unrest engulfed our country, an ongoing conflict with an abusive pastor came to a climax when my husband and I were shown the door at a church we had served for over fifteen years. I was untethered, wondering what life in the world would look like in the…
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This morning, I went back to church. For more than two years, like many, I have been provided with and found reasons to attend church virtually or, truthfully, not at all. It has been a sort of rebellion. Rebellion against decades of church involvement and all the forced Sundays of my youth. A rebellion against…
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A nervous shudder ran through my body when I saw his name in the subject line of the email. I braced myself for some kind of ploy. I rushed to make sense of things in my mind. Was he reaching out wanting to make things right or to humbly apologize? I quickly knew the…
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I have a memory of belonging, of feeling at home.
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As a military wife who moved frequently, I attended many churches. I am also a Pharisee and a people-pleaser, so I gravitated towards women like me—those who recognized and approved good works. Every church has those who give and those who take, and I found satisfaction in being someone who gave more than I took.
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I thought I knew her type. It was the second time I had seen her come to church but the first time we ever interacted. She was a bit older, sort of mousy, and she walked up to me with a red baseball hat tucked under one arm and a John MacArthur Study Bible under…
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“You see, dear—I think there are two types of people in the world. Those who divide the world up into two kinds of people…and those who don’t.” – Tony Hendra Pushing through the heavy church door, I was met by a rush of hot air, thick with humidity and foreshadowing a long, unpleasant southeastern summer.…
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