cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“A turtle got it,” my dad said to me as I looked with utter devastation at the claw marks on my prized watermelon. I was eight years old and had waited months for my favorite fruit to be ready. Days before I got to cut it open, our neighborhood turtles decided to make it their…
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*The following post contains elements about eating behaviors that could feel triggering. I have been walking around hungry most of my life. Food was just inches away, yet it did not feel like it was accessible. Not to me. This is true because there was so much more that I wanted. I didn’t just want…
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Our wedding anniversary came and went. Although my husband and I love each other very much, I felt empty, cold, and distant. We are attempting to conquer the dark places in our story, rewrite the narrative, and break out of past bondage; however, on our anniversary, I longed to barricade myself away from feeling or thinking.…
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When I was seven, I wanted a swing. The simple thought of soaring weightlessly gave me a feeling of rest in my little soul. Never for a moment did I doubt my daddy could make it happen, so I asked him, knowing he would join my joyful anticipation. Just as expected, he took on my…
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“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.” Luke 8:48 “Orphan” comes to me with connotations of lack—lack of guidance, lack of love, lack of place, lack of belonging. Though I never knew the absence of parental guidance in my life, I encountered a season as a spiritual orphan in my 20s, lacking community,…
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“I feel like I wasted my time”, I said to my mom through tears.
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A poem by Kacy Davis
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