cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
As I consider my final Red Tent essay, I remember the distinct feeling of writing my first piece. It came flowing out of my heart in a hospital room, and it “had to be” shared. In the midst of my processing and growth, the tent has felt like a protected space that holds my historic…
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I often find myself looking at my two girls and longing for the level of ignorance they are afforded at the ages of 2 and under. There’s so much they are protected from, so many worries and responsibilities they don’t have to engage. What do they have to be stressed about?
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I was reading a story in John 9 recently. As I read, I noticed that I was becoming irritated and gradually enraged with the characters in the story. You see, there was a blind man who had been blind his entire life. Suddenly a charismatic new leader, the rumored Messiah, entered the city and came…
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