reframing femininity
With one hand I hold tightly to my husband, in desperate need of his support, and with the other I push him away. It’s confusing and frustrating, but this is how the young and scared part of me struggles for control and acts out in fear. My mature and wise adult self knows better. I have…
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I whispered, “I am not my burnout,” a phrase I held underneath my breath just silent enough so no one else could hear. These words erupted as Jen Hatmaker was giving a stellar keynote at the recent Brave On conference. While I do not recall Jen’s exact words, I sharply remember her speech triggered a new…
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A few weeks ago I felt the Spirit’s prompting to make a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. The invitation did not feel uncanny; I love nudges to create. Instead, I was curious about the message I would receive in the process. Baking chocolate chip cookies is a ritual I practice during seasons of the…
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Salmon sculptures inlay the floors in swirling eddies of bronze and granite at Sea-Tac Airport. I’ve rushed over these fish many times as I’ve navigated a season of growth and vocational transition in Seattle. This time flying out of Seattle was different. This trip was the last trip. Like most transitions, my move to Seattle…
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There are three “stages” of labor. The second part, the part where your cervix dilates and you push and the baby is born, that part is called “transition”.
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As I was preparing to write for this month, I left the window open on my computer with the May writing themes the only words on the page.
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I’m sitting here over my morning tea watching transition across my yard.
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