cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My best friend, Jim, was the most predictable person I had ever known. I called him “The Man With a Plan” because he approached every day and every situation as though he knew what to expect. I marveled at his ability to stay calm and deal with whatever came along.
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*Trigger warning that today’s post contains a story of sexual violence. Through very little thought or planning on my part, my work life fell into place and eventually developed into a career plan. When I was twenty, I started working in a clerical job at a federal law enforcement agency, and over the next eight…
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Although I grew up in a large city (Detroit), I only inhabited one small part of it, what is locally known as the east side. Woodward Avenue divided the east side from the west side of Detroit, and I had no reason to cross Woodward Avenue. Everything I needed was available on the east side,…
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At seventy-one, I accept the reality that I am living the third third of my life. Sometimes the realization frightens me, but at other times, it brings me peace. There is nothing I can do about time marching on, so I may as well relax and enjoy. The realization that I am living the last…
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When I was in my mid 20s, a woman at church, who was just a few years older than me, had gone home to bury her mother; her father had died a few years earlier. “I am an orphan,” she said upon her return. I thought it was one of the oddest things I had…
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As I reflect on Genesis 3:8, the word “hid” catches my attention, and a memory comes back to me from when I worked at an organization called Citizen Advocates. My job was to recruit local community members to become advocates for people who had developmental disabilities and no one in their lives to speak up…
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Learning about Spanish culture was one part of my college summer school program in Madrid, Spain, and that meant churches, museums, bullfights, and flamenco dances. There were also many visits to nightclubs—called discotecas—but I don’t think my professors considered those part of my cultural education. I thoroughly enjoyed every museum and would gladly return to…
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Mark Nepo, in The Book of Awakening, page 205, writes: “…finding where I fit in the world feels a lot like spiritual fishing. The vast, mysterious ocean of experience keeps calling, and…I keep hauling up food…from a common depth no one can see, and then I spend time cleaning what I’ve found and hearing what…
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Last week, a robin built her nest in a nook on my garage. I wonder if this is the same robin who had a nest there when I first moved into this house seven years ago. (I admit that I don’t know much about how long robins live or their behavior.)
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Why God chose me is a mystery—inexplicable and unimaginable, really—but a truth I have known my whole life. Visions, dreams, and intense prayer experiences have all revealed God’s presence in my life and the depth of his love for me. Living with mystery—accepting it and embracing it—is the invitation God extends to me every day.…
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