cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Endings can feel like death, but they also hold so much hope if you remain present in the tension of the liminal space they create. My son moved out of our home last week. He spent a year with us after his college graduation, which was a gift of unexpected time. As I headed home…
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“We do the best we can with what we know at the time,” said my friend. We have known one another for a long time and were talking about shared memories of when our daughters were young. I reflected on how my own formative experiences showed up in the ways I parented my daughters, who…
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On Saturday morning in middle-winter, I stand in my bathroom, highlighting the hair of one of my dear friends. I have a special, recyclable Lululemon bag filled with balayage lightener, clips, a cape, and tin foil. I always put it away in a place that is obvious but I can never find.
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My oldest daughter was not a cuddly child in her first four years of life. She wanted her space, and we learned to give it to her. At some point, however, she’s changed her mind on all things physical touch. These days, she cannot get close enough to me, her dad, or her sister. She…
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Silence was the language of my childhood—in our home, in the car, walking side-by-side. When our kids were born, I wanted to make sure car rides were filled with music and laughter and conversation. Some of the very best of the latter have taken place on the way to school. Here is one of my…
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Recently, we attended parties celebrating milestones achieved by dear friends. One will attend Christian college after graduating high school; one begins a first job after competing as a student-athlete for another Christian school. Posted on our refrigerator, the invitations were reminders—not just of party dates, but also of pain we are navigating as parents. …
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I put it off for as long as I possibly could—the slimming down and organization of our fourth bedroom. We established it as the playroom when we moved in with our little girls six years ago, but I was finally accepting that, at ages 15 and 12, they were doing far less playing than ever…
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Steven climbed into the passenger seat of the Toyota Sequoia. “Let’s take the back way to Holland, Mom.” I back down our angled driveway and head for H Avenue and then over to Sixth Street. The quiet backroads of Kalamazoo are lined with trees and sprawling green grass in the summertime. Hand-painted signs lean against…
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As I sit here, sipping my morning coffee and gazing out the window at my two teenage sons, I can’t help but daydream about the days when they’ll be off to college and my husband and I will be empty nesters. I love my kids more than anything in this world. They’re the light of…
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One of my favorite artists, P!nk, was recently honored with the Icon Award at the iHeartRadio music awards. Standing on the stage, with award in hand, she paused briefly before saying, “I usually do try to joke or be self-deprecating in these moments, but I want to be a better friend to myself tonight, so…
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