What It All Means

Snooze, snooze, snooze.  One week ago, four days ago, thirteen hours ago.  As the dampened street reflects an early Saturday morning shower, my email inbox sprinkles out reminders set from the past week. A musical playlist, a “must read again,” and “your story doesn’t end here” (thank you, God!) fill the subject lines of emails,…

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Tipping Point

The computer keyboard looked alive, warped and waving as my eyes roamed over the keys. They were everywhere. Ants crawling in and out of the space between the letters and numbers, piling over each other to get to…Where were they going? Wait, where were they coming from? I searched frantically around the desk, my heart…

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Between Joy and Sadness

“Can I watch Joy’s movie, Mama?” “Joy’s movie?” “Yeah! The yellow lady with the blue hair!” Frantically searching my memory bank for the missing puzzle pieces, I stare confusedly into space until a bright light blinks into existence above my head. “Aha! Joy! You mean Inside Out.” My sweet boy, with swollen eyes and a…

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Birthing

My heart beat rapidly in my chest as I opened the email from our adoption coordinator. In just hours, I would be boarding a plane with my husband and two boys to fly to Haiti. The message included a picture of our daughter.  Baby Girl – Christine T. three months old, no birth weight, no…

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Off Center

I sat down to write, opening my Pages program and automatically formatting the first page to center the words…”off center.” The words looked back at me, perfectly aligned, and I chuckled to myself. “How is this like my life?” We used to ask each other that question in a women’s group, and it often sparked an “aha”…

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He Makes Me: Thoughts In A Season Of Quarantine

I will never forget the based-on-a-true-story movie, The Impossible, about a family who, while vacationing in a paradise resort in Thailand, was hit by the 2004 tsunami. The scene that grips me most is when Naomi Watts is reading on a lounge chair and suddenly sensing something is not right. That something terribly powerful is…

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Kitchen Battles

I am crumpled up on my kitchen floor, head in hands, hiding beneath a soundtrack of Fernando Ortega and Bifrost Arts, hoping my kids don’t notice I am weeping, It’s holy ground, but it feels like falling apart.

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