In the breaking
Maybe in the breaking I find my way back to me, back to the me that God intended.
Finding hope in the weeds
Today is day two of rain. Real rain, not the spitting type of drizzle that often comes after meteorological predications of rain in California. The kind of rain where I put towels out at the doors to keep the animals and kids from tracking mud through the house. The kind of rain where I wonder if anyone …
Tiny Knives and other protective factors
My youngest is brilliant with a grinder and a forge. Able to create intricate designs from any piece of metal he can find (aka why I have so few pieces of silverware left) it isn’t unusual for me to find little weapons in a bush in the yard, in his bed or lying around the …
There are things with an adopted child (a very short word)
There are things with an adopted child. Things like teaching them the months of the year in order, at 15, because you realize they never learned them in their disrupted kindergarten years. Things like not having the sweet momma memories of them sleeping in your arms, or holding your hand as they gaze lovingly up …
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Of being “worn”, the power of community, a confession, and a choice
There are days. They often come in waves. I wake up and I feel a heaviness on my chest. Nothing tragic, just the wear of the day to day. The loneliness, the weariness, I am tired. I put on the song “Worn” by Tenth Avenue North (video and lyrics here) and lift my tear-filled eyes. The lyrics …
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