My House Is On Fire

Birch - Swindoll quote

  I’d just set down bowls of chicken and rice kibble mixed with canned lamb dinner when my phone rang. I’m used to not being able to understand the grandgirl because of giggling and commotion in the background. But tonight (Monday–the day after Mother’s Day) was different. Through her panic, I finally understood her screams. “My house […]

In Which Cancer Brings Clarity for David

David 2014

UPDATE: David Landrith, pastor of Long Hollow Baptist Church, joined Jesus in heaven this morning, November 18, 2014. He now rests in the shadow of the Amighty. Please continue to pray for his family and his church. I’m so sad today, yet grateful for the privilege of having just a small connection with his people, for having […]

Cultivating Good In the Midst of Grief

create good

    She was my age, and also a nurse. She helped birth this place–a place where people could live out their last days in unforced rhythms of grace, where grief itself could cultivate good. I’m sure she never dreamed that she would be birthed to a new life from one of its beds. She was admitted the same […]

Playdates with God: Hayride

autumn forever

  I walk the plank into the front wagon and weave my way through knee-high drifts while I try not to step on other feet or legs. D and I find our spot and lean back against the straw-padded side. We pile more straw over our legs and then lay a blanket over that. The green […]

Into His Presence

frio river

Note: In just five weeks, I’ll find myself next to the Frio River in the hill country of Texas when I attend The High Calling retreat at Laity Lodge. And oh how I need it as I’ve been going through a rather hard and hectic season. I need to be in this place with my […]

Look. Light. by Laura Lynn Brown

Look Light

    I first met Laura face-to-face on a writer’s retreat at Laity Lodge where we discovered we’re both deep see divers–as in seeing deep. She makes music with her words and on her tin whistle. Some day maybe I’ll buy another harp–a small, portable one–and team up with her for a duet. Or not. […]

To My Mother: A Villanelle

Hiland Cottage deer - villanelle

This Making Manifest study has me combing my blog for poetry attempts, and I ran across this villanelle (my first and quite possibly my last) written in response to a December 2011 poetry prompt issued by The High Calling and Tweetspeak Poetry. I wrote it a month after my mother died, and it seems right to revisit it as […]

move forward, bounce back, and press on

move forward

  I realized it just this morning. She was my age. She was also a nurse. Instrumental, I understand, in birthing this place. She was admitted the same day we were, to the room next door to ours. She’d done battle for 18 years. A bone marrow donor stood ready, but she could not bounce […]

When You’re Not Comfortable

from my back

I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom lately. I imagine I always will come fall. Because brain cancer came with the fall, discovered by a fall. We lost her two years ago this month, though some days it seems like yesterday. I hover over her squint at tilted back and crooked neck. Are you […]