cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
On a rainy mid-pandemic Sunday afternoon the call came. A mutual Virginia friend uttered the words, “I heard about Charlotte. I know you were dear friends. I’m so sorry.” A driver high on meth had crossed the double yellow lines, hitting her head-on as she drove into town to sing for a virtual church service.…
Read More
The beginning of Mom’s cancer journey turned my world upside down. The weekend after her abnormal scan brought all of the siblings together, several from out of town. Every weekend following felt like a holiday in those early days, when hopes were high that the right smoothie, sauna, or supplement would change the game and…
Read More
As the “local daughter,” once Mom’s diagnosis of metastatic pancreatic cancer was confirmed, I toggled between showing up and removing myself from the space as much as possible so that her other children could get what they wanted and needed from her dying process. Out-of-town siblings and their families visited often. Mom’s sisters and brother…
Read More
Recently, we attended parties celebrating milestones achieved by dear friends. One will attend Christian college after graduating high school; one begins a first job after competing as a student-athlete for another Christian school. Posted on our refrigerator, the invitations were reminders—not just of party dates, but also of pain we are navigating as parents. …
Read More
Decades ago, I went grocery shopping after the funeral of a dear friend who had died much too young and way too swiftly. His tragic death left one of my closest friends without a partner and their young children without a father. Arriving home after the funeral, I was anxious, emotionally untethered, and in need…
Read More
I put it off for as long as I possibly could—the slimming down and organization of our fourth bedroom. We established it as the playroom when we moved in with our little girls six years ago, but I was finally accepting that, at ages 15 and 12, they were doing far less playing than ever…
Read More
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…
Read More
Someone recently asked me, “How do I even know if I believe in God? What about God is worthy of believing?” Little did I know that the journey I would take the next few weeks would entail loss, and grief, and confusion. Little did I know that amidst that loss and grief and confusion I…
Read More
Our dear sailing friend Len died several weeks ago. He was sixty years young. At his memorial service, my husband said Len was the most beautifully complex contradiction of a human he had ever known. More insecure, more bold, more obstinate, more open, more brilliant, more foolish, more connected to death, and more alive to the resurrection…
Read More
This is not a eulogy. This is a wild ce-le-bra-tion. Lived out in staccato, fast breaths and clapped hands. This is a reverie of light that actively stomped the darkness. She was a determined, defiant dance. This is ce-le-bra-tion. She was coffee and cocoa-bean, sugar cane and deep earth. Caribbean and cradle of civilization. She was…
Read More