I remember helping my mom pack up my childhood home. I was twenty-four and pregnant with my first daughter. That feels important to mention, because the bending over to wrap things in paper and place them in the box was killing my back.
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All articles filed in Moving
Homeless
It is Thursday. It is afternoon. I am working on my book when my phone beeps the reminder for an outreach to people living in homelessness. I shut it off and keep working. The volunteer I usually partner with is off tonight. I feel no need to rush.
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Baby Pomegranate
My child is currently about the size of a pomegranate. At 17 weeks pregnant, I’m slowly starting to develop a “baby bump”—evidence that our sweet little pomegranate is growing steadily while continuing to make their home within me for the next twenty-something weeks.
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Homesick
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Our family had intentionally gone to church early that morning so we could head out into the beautiful Colorado Mountains and explore what God had for us. The sky had my favorite wispy clouds streaked through them.
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Resisting the Zombie
October is here and Halloween is fast approaching. Talk about costumes is filling every corner of my world. Last year, both boys picked out ninja costumes on a whim while we were gallivanting through Costco.
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What if I don’t get on the plane?
My body cracked and popped as I gently entered the lime green office in my parents house. A twin mattress and an air mattress lay on the floor one holding my son, the other left open for me.
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Present Company Not Excluded
Hello everyone! It looks as if most of you are here so I would like to go ahead and get started. Thank you for gathering on such short notice.
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I Cannot Raise the Dead
“The truth is something you already knew deep in your own bones: Your ship is sinking. The life you lived before is the life you live no longer. Your life feels like a funeral, because there is part of you that is actually dying.” Jonathan Martin How to Survive a Shipwreck Joe arrived at my…
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Ecclesiastes
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. —Ecclesiastes 3:1 The honeysuckles are lush along the roadside as I drive north from the house to the grocery store, the woods on either side reminding me of home—my old home.
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Still Moving
I square myself to the lateral metal file cabinets, each with three safety-interlocking drawers filled with project files. Folders are tabbed in alphabetical order by client name and year—the painstaking work of someone far more meticulous than me.
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