cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
The last time I said to Dan, “I am just telling you the truth,” I was fed up with what he was doing. There is, of course, a place for anger, but in this case, I was not concerned about him. I wanted him to stop his annoying remarks. The problem with “telling the truth”…
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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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He died without ever paying his debt. Others in our family speak fondly of him even naming their children after him. I have a totally different memory of the man. I was always afraid of him. He was a big, gruff, crude, loud bully who shoved his weight around in every environment he was ever…
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Part of the spirit dies a little each time it’s asked to carry more than its weight in terror, violence, and betrayal. Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle It’s a complicated truth, and people don’t like complications. Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff What does one do with…
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I sigh, and park my car between an instructional parking sign and the bumper of an Audi. Breathing the psalmist’s holy plea, “Lord, you have seen this; do not be silent. Do not be far from me, Lord.” I exhale. God returns silence and presses me into service with little to offer. My friend and…
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If I told you how much my life changed when I met my friend and survivor Esperance, you might roll your eyes and tell me you’ve heard that story before. The headline? “Sheltered white woman is shocked into reality after meeting a war survivor in Congo.”
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“Wanna come up?” “Netflix and chill tonight?” “What about friends with benefits?”
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“I wasn’t finished!” Elsa stomped her foot and ran to the living room.
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