reframing femininity
Shards of glass rage against my vocal folds as I slowly swallow to lessen the pain. Lymph nodes appear to be working overtime as swelling and tenderness make me want to wrap a warm compress around my neck. I awoke days ago to a raw, scratchy feeling in the back of my throat. Sickness has…
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Last May, Chris and I walked out of the church community we have been part of for 19 years. This particular ending had been building inside of me for quite some time, yet I repeatedly stifled my sense of knowing, certain that there was no place else to go. This was the church where we…
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From the moment the work truck pulled into the driveway when the kids were small, a beautiful anticipation bubbled up and filled the air. Happy squeals and scurrying feet abounding as we all took cover to hide from dad, including the big black lab who always gave us away. Kevin would enter with such joy and…
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We have had a terrible dry winter and spring in the southwestern desert. Day after day has dawned with clear skies and a relentless sun. The land has grown parched. The pine trees in our yard have turned brown, and the threat of fire looms across the mountains above our town. It has become a…
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This past year has been one of the most challenging and painful years in my life. I felt like I was in a fierce storm being thrashed around like a little rag doll. For what seemed like eternity, all I could focus on was trying to survive one moment at a time. I felt deep betrayal, grief, fear,…
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The process of grief is anything but linear. What would be nice is a clear cut path with a beginning and end, but that’s not the way grief works. It feels more like a tidal wave that comes out of the blue and knocks the wind out of you, or a dull aching pain that…
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“I’m going to get off the phone now.” “Mom, tell me you love me.” “I love you honey.” “OK mom, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” “OK, goodbye.”
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A small stream of light struggles to break through a crack between the window blinds in the darkened room. The persistent beep from the nearby machine hums. It is annoying, as it reminds me I am in the ICU.
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To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. —Ecclesiastes 3:1 The honeysuckles are lush along the roadside as I drive north from the house to the grocery store, the woods on either side reminding me of home—my old home.
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It has been one year since I received the call, one year since the news dribbled out of the earpiece that I was sister to one less brother.
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