cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
An outdated Chromebook sits atop my lap. A warning appears just before the screen turns black. Jiggling the charger, I turn it slightly counterclockwise, hoping for enough connection to power the laptop on once again. For years, this laptop has required a power cord to operate, as it’s unable to function on battery alone. Seated…
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Seven years ago the four of us sat in our new living room talking. My husband and I had just had dinner with our longtime friends and counselors, Tracy and Mark Johnson. I’m not sure how it got brought up, but we were talking about how much I love writing and how much (since becoming…
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Tracy Johnson asked me to support her new endeavor, Red Tent Living. I know how difficult it has been for me to ask for support for mission trips or the founding of a new graduate school. It is humbling, for me, to ask for anything. I did not want Tracy to have an awkward pause…
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I’d booked a room of my own for a week at a lodge on the outskirts of Cosby, Tennessee—a town too sleepy to care if you call it the middle of nowhere. Set just off a creek where horses grazed freely on miles of green meadow, the lodge I’d chosen had a wraparound deck, a…
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This morning I creak and stretch as I pull myself out of a deep sleep and into another day. Before me today is the simple task of getting to the lab to give up some of my blood. Blood. That incredible river of life within that’s full of information, that will detail the state of…
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