cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I have one more year left in my twenties. Some might say I’m a young spring chicken with barely any life under my belt (but we don’t wear belts anymore, thank you, high-waisted jeans!). That’s not untrue. I am pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but as I consider the seasons that have…
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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…
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I used to be a girl who posted a perfectly-crafted picture of the coffee shop quiet time I would have with just me and Jesus and my Bible, perfectly arranged on a wooden countertop next to my designer latte with a perfect heart. I mean, if it wasn’t Instagram-worthy, did it even happen? These days,…
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We often sat in the little room that held the door to the elevator, blocked off by a small set of windows. The carpet wasn’t incredibly comfortable, just generic purple with a bit of a worn-down vibe. The room only saw high traffic on move-in weekends and with the occasional third-floor resident who was too…
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As we sat on the concrete porch surrounded by a white fence and antique corbels, we sipped our Keurig coffee and ate homemade blueberry scones I had prepared the night before. She wiped a single tear from her mocha-colored cheek between yawns and said, “I’ve never known the love of God before.” She was a…
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From the moment she and her mom walked into my office I wondered if she deserved more of a professional than me or more tenderness than I felt like I was able to offer. I felt like she could’ve been me had some things gone differently in my life. We started by talking about her…
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I recently had to undergo eye surgery. The recovery for this surgery was such that I could not open either of my eyes for nearly four days. Now, as I look back on that time, I am realizing I could’ve relished it a bit more. But for this highly extroverted people person and Enneagram 3…
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It was a profound moment for me. As I sat staring at my peanut butter-smudged computer screen, wincing from the glare to try to look her as directly in the eyes as possible, I wondered to myself: What little suns does my life orbit around? Spiritual direction is new for me. As I progress through…
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One of the first pictures I posted to Instagram was of a smashed banana with googly eyes. I believe the caption said, “Look what I found on my pillow. I squashed it. #evil #friends.” How absurd. That was pure, authentic, youthful Haley right there. I keep scrolling to find more pictures from my college years—pictures…
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Errreeeeooooo-errreeeeooooo-errreeeeoooooo-errreeeeooooo. I looked down after sitting attached to the human milking machine (if you know, you know) for 35 minutes only to see 1 ounce total compiled by my milk machines. After so much of my time and life connected to that damn pump, I was so over it.
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