cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Moving through loss is messy and unattractive. A few years ago, there was a song made popular by a country singer who lamented her mama’s advice: “Run and hide your crazy and start actin’ like a lady.”* Or, as others have said, “fake it till you make it.” There is a certain value in this…
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Who knew the small stone would ricochet off the rockface? Before I hurled it, my imagination assured me it would shatter into pieces to mirror the condition of my heart. Instead, the ricochet honors my teetering emotions in the tension of joy and sorrow.
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It has been three years since The Anchor House flooded during Hurricane Matthew. I’d forgotten that milestone until Facebook memories popped up with pictures on my iPhone screen. I scrolled through the images, staring at the soggy carpet and water-stained walls, while sipping coffee and packing Asha’s lunch. I could not believe it has been…
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The images contained in the message brought tears to my eyes. The message was titled “Urgent Prayers for Damascus”.
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The beginning of a new year often brings a renewed sense of hope for the year ahead.
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I went to my first writing conference last summer.
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