We were up so early that it was still dark outside. In typical Florida style, the sky was foggy and heavy with dampness. The drive to the airport in my 12-year-old mind was magical; we were setting off on an adventure and moving to Bermuda. This was new for me because though I was born…
Prep time: Lifelong Level of difficulty: Challenging Recipe serves: Limitless The first ingredient is people. More than one person is required for the recipe to turn out correctly, although substitutions are possible: non-blood relatives, people from different ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds, or friends who morphed into family. Vigorously mix all these ingredients together and…
“Why would God make one of the Ten Commandments about jealousy? Nobody can control jealousy!” asked my 7-year-old. Good question. Once, my first impulse might have been to say, “So we try harder.” Big mistake. When my younger daughter was very small, she would wriggle from the towel, her sturdy, smooth limbs bending and extending,…
When I’m trying to write, my young daughter likes to sit on my lap and have what we call “typing time.” Her fingers perched over the keyboard, she practices her motor coordination and spelling skills by typing simple words over and over. Mom. Mom. Mom. Cat. Cat. Cat. I indulge my daughter in practice, but…
Last summer, hugely pregnant with my third child, I took my 1- and 3-year-olds on a walk every afternoon. I’d saunter along behind them, absently resting my hand on my taut belly, hoping to receive some communication in the form of a heel or shoulder blade in my palm. My head ached from the dry…
I felt confident walking into the New Jersey post office that afternoon. I had set clear rules beforehand for my children. They knew to avoid the automatic door buttons. As tempting as the buttons were, an open door would land them right on Main Street with oncoming traffic while I was still in line. In…
There were so many things I looked forward to before having children, but one that couldn’t come fast enough was getting to enact the nightly ritual of story time again. (Seriously, not fast enough. I think we started reading books to our firstborn when he was five weeks old and his eyes didn’t even open…
Author Richard Foster describes spiritual disciplines as practices Jesus taught through his own words and actions. In his classic, Celebration of Discipline, Foster says, “God has ordained the Disciplines of the spiritual life as the means by which we place ourselves where he can bless us.” I’d seen the truth of this concept in my…
When my girls were tiny Jerry and I cherished every new miracle. The first baby tooth! Eating finger food! Crawling, walking brought applause and cheers. I loved watching their little minds work as they began to talk and figure out new experiences. (At first sight of Georgia clay, two-year-old Dede sang out, “Look, Mommy! Sunburned…
In the beginning, God created. Artist’s soul attuned to string everything from nothing formed an idea in his head that gave him delight. A black and barren expanse mutely marked a starting point from which the Spirit hovered, wrinkling the waters, suspended in pregnant pause before the birth of what was to be. Clear, sharp,…
At times, the most extravagant beauty is found in simplicity. The brilliance radiated by a single firefly. The intricate, colorful design adorning one tropical fish. A single rose. “Simple” allows one to hone in and marvel at the craftsmanship. My thoughts of simple beauty and nature naturally gravitate to memories of my husband’s grandfather Elmer….
I love sunrises, sunsets. The grandeur of mountains, the movement of the ocean, the starkness of the desert—all engage my senses. But nothing captures my heart like the beauty of God revealed in his created image bearers. I see God in my husband, my children, and now, especially, my grandchildren. Friends, neighbors, and co-workers reflect…
Late winter is often particularly dark and dank. My doldrums are deep; the brief respite of sun and warmth too rare. Cranky, I put one foot ahead of the other, get done what needs to be done, oblivious to subtle renewal around me, refusing to believe even in the possibility. It happened today. Dawn broke…
He left a cold, wordless goodbye in the garage. We’ve tried making sense of it ever since. Unanswered questions are always one cruel part of suicide’s trauma. The puzzle of intention never entirely fits together; there is no straight, unimpeachable line from A to B. In my brother’s case, we were only able to piece…