cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
When I bought a hanging pot of pansies last October, it was to replace a broken bird feeder that squirrels kept raiding. We moved the bird feeder to a more rodent-proof spot but were left with an empty porch hook—a spot for hanging flowers, I decided. The pansies were dark purple and glorious. Their pot…
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“He is gone.” My sister’s text startles me, and I sit up in bed. At first, I am confused and think she means her son is at school so that we can talk. I call her, and I know she is not okay from her voice. I realize she meant her son is missing. My…
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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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“Take a deep breath and fill your belly with air, in through your nose and out through your mouth.” Ally gently guides us through a trauma-informed yoga practice. I notice the rubber mat beneath me and the earth holding me. I am gathered with eight women fighting to find goodness in our bodies, vessels that…
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My prayer candle, lit weeks ago at the start of advent, flickers in the darkness of the early morning. My breathing is slow and steady and my favorite blanket feels particularly soft and warm tucked around me. Today I am choosing to push the check list and tasks to the side and let myself just…
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I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…
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Twenty years ago, Chris and I moved our family back to Michigan, where we both grew up and where most of our family lived. I was glad we took the opportunity after getting married to leave and experience other places and people, and I was also glad to return when we did. By then, we…
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I heard my heart whisper, “I’d rather be with them.” I held back a breath, stunned by the level of satisfaction I had being wrapped in the love of my husband and daughter.
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I looked at the clock as the phone was ringing. It was 5:15 AM and Andrew was calling to let us know that his wife, Elizabeth, had just given birth to our grandson.
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For those of us blessed enough to have experienced the pedal-to-the-metal velocity of unmedicated childbirth
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