This post is a continuation of Stars and Grace: I / / / read it here The stars in Montana, the ones right above Rising Sun Campground in Glacier National Park, are some of the best I have seen to date. I noticed them while on my walk to the bathroom. Sore and stumbling from … More Stars and Grace: II
Something I do when my heart is overwhelmed is look up at the stars. I tilt back my head and let my hair fall loose, feeling like I did back in the tenth grade while standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon, at sunset. It was June and I was sixteen. Tourists flocked at the edge, … More Stars and Grace: I
It’s late August now in Michigan, and crickets croak in the afternoon heat. Their song is comforting and smooth, a predictable symphony that will usher in a Midwest autumn. By September the leaves will start to turn. Cinnamon and nutmeg, cardigans and leather boots. Burgundy, eggplant. The seasons won’t delay. But, right now it’s still the in-between, with both sticky air … More The Words that Hold it All Together
Here’s to the hard seasons. Here’s to the hard seasons built by moments that started small and few, but spiraled towards much and many- the culmination of difficult feats and disastrous blows. Here’s to the seasons that humble you, to the seasons that lay you flat and strip you bare. Here’s to the transitions that remind you, once … More On Hard Seasons
Mothering itty bitty vegetables from seed to harvest has been a strange desire on my bucket list for years. Carrots, with their knobby roots and wild stems, have always been a particular fancy of mine. Every summer I fantasize of the satisfaction that must follow yanking one of those stubborn vegetables from the ground. I imagine firmly gripping each bushy stalk and giving … More Carrots And Dreams
I watched a leaf blow, suspended midair by celestial threads. Caught in a careless and indiscernible breeze, she danced upon invisible floors and twirled around transparent fingers, a solo act. She was breathtaking and wonderful. So unexpected, so abrupt. So delicate and delightful.
I remember it well – the wild way the fog held close to the peaks of those blue mountains, trapped in clefts and crevices like slow, low-hanging clouds. The white vapor hung precariously, as though it wanted to rise but had hit a glass ceiling, an impenetrable wall. So, it settled instead. The sky was the lightest, most fragile shade of cotton … More Beautiful Storm
It’s late January. The month of my birth, and the first month of the year, it is also the month when my aging body grows tired of the cold. When my bones ache from the freeze. January, for me, is when the charm of winter starts to fade just as quickly as the pure white snow can turn itself muddy and gray. Christmas has come. Jesus and the New Year have come, … More Keeping a Warm Soul (Waiting for May)
God’s faithfulness towards us is sustaining and subtly sweet.
Welcome to the wandering years. … More The Unwelcome Wander
Lately, I have been lonely. Life post-grad is a season of instability, and the twenties are like a decade-long stage where the backdrop is constantly shifting. College is composed in years of apartment hopping, where the living space changes, yet your partners in crime do not; Friends at finger tips, roommates on speed dial. The people you love are never more … More Where the Loneliness Points