Building a New House

Sadly, the body of Christ has often failed to see trauma as a place of service…I think a look at suffering humanity would lead to the realization that trauma is perhaps the greatest mission field of the twenty-first century. (Diane Landberg, 2015, Suffering and the Heart of God, p. 8) Almost eleven years have passed…

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Grief Suspended

My husband and I watch a television show we’ve grown rather fond of called, The Good Doctor. In a recent episode, one of the young surgeons tragically loses her mom whom she’d just begun to get to know after years of separation. She immediately returns to work and gets on with her life without mourning…

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Grand Adventure

A crisp November day in Michigan.  Overcast but no snow on the ground. Dad in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger seat. Pulling out of the driveway and turning onto the dirt road. Heading off on an adventure in the red Ford pickup truck.  Just my dad and I.

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The Christmas House

Money was tight. I mean tight. There wasn’t any extra, not a lick. We had stepped out in faith to build the house. THE house. This was the house we would stay in forever. This was the house our children would move out of and our grandchildren would run into. We had been working and…

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Spared

Under fluorescent lights, my doctor gently massages my breast tissue as I lie on a metal cot. Two months ago, I started having pain in my breasts. I put it off, thinking it was due to holding plank postures in my new cardio-yoga routine. “But you need to get a mammogram,” my mother urged. “You…

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Foodie

I am a foodie—and, I’m very ambivalent about that. I both love and excoriate myself for that. My food war is facilitated by my having dissociative identity disorder (DID). If you’re unfamiliar, DID is a survival mechanism of the mind in the face of great trauma. Imagine, if you will, the natural conflicting opinions of…

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Raising A Priest: My Son And Choosing Faith

It’s Fall. I’ve been reluctant to completely close my bedroom window, clinging to the birds’ chirps, and cold gusts of air. The fresh air wakes me and I pause before getting out of bed. I often encounter resistance to opening my door in the morning, wondering what I have to offer my children who are…

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The Mystery of God’s Love

Why God chose me is a mystery—inexplicable and unimaginable, really—but a truth I have known my whole life. Visions, dreams, and intense prayer experiences have all revealed God’s presence in my life and the depth of his love for me. Living with mystery—accepting it and embracing it—is the invitation God extends to me every day.…

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Panic on a Plane

If there is anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe, I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. But this was shown: that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same precious love. — Julian of Norwich The whole world closes in…

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The Mystery I Live

Our scars travel with us through life. Not just our own scars, but scars of our friends and family become the fabric of who we are. I remember my first experience of losing a friend to death. A group of us had traveled by train to Fred Waring’s choral workshop in Pennsylvania. While there we…

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