An Attitude of Gratitude
Last night, after a romantic date consisting of pizza, groceries, and a car wash—all of which we had two kids along for the ride—we tucked said kids in bed and my husband and I sat down in the living room. I
Viewing Beauty Deep
"The more often we see the things around us - even the beautiful and wonderful things - the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the
Though We See Through A Glass, Darkly
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Corinthians 13:12 I stood at the sink, washing dishes. Wind and
Stepping Into The Wind
And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” And
Until We Feel The Warmth Again
My husband comes outside as I’m trying to put my fitful heart into words. He munches on a piece of dark chocolate, his work boots in hand. “That’s funny." He smiles. "It’s 41 degrees, and you’re sitting out here with a
The Velveteen Mama ~ The Complicated Gift of Becoming Real
Over these past three years since my daughter’s birth, I have been in the process of becoming real. Like Velveteen Mama real. I am sure you know the premise of The Velveteen Rabbit, either from having read the story yourself or from
The Compost Jar of The Mind
I was sitting in a patch of sunlight warming the kitchen table—pumping milk, listening to classical music on Pandora, and reading an article about being a kind mama. Garbanzo beans were cooking on the stove that I was later going
Time For This
A bald eagle screeched in the distance. A derelict silo broke up the horizon’s striated hues of blue, purple, and pink. My boots sunk into the melted slush covering the dirt road. My four-month-old nestled against me, bundled between my
A New Foundation
I clean blood from behind my husband’s ears with our daughters’ tearless shampoo. Muddy shoes on the front porch, his truck parked where he left it after planting apple trees, putting his t-shirts away and then wearing one just so
The Day That Will Forever Mark Our World
“Where are you?” the nurse asked, shining a flashlight into my husband’s eyes. “La Crosse, Wisconsin.” He winced. “The hospital.” “And why are you here?” “I have a brain tumor,” he said. I turned away—eyes stinging—and stared down at the wet street,