What Is a Good Life?

For months the words have toiled and churned inside me. The black letters absent from the page. A heavy, nagging problem. A writer’s liability. Rather than anguishing over this loss I have lived. Then with an intimate slow unfurling I deliberate on these first scarce stanzas. I feel their drumming. Echoes in the chambers of…

My Very Little Faith

1. As it turns out I have A Very Little Faith. Perhaps I am a product of my human father who believed personal greatness was achieved through his tenacious hard work. Having a false humility, showing off A Very Big Faith, I saw that it was one that didn’t fundamentally change his character. Not really. This…

New Post: Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering

I sit in the early morning dark. It is 4 am and I am awake. I like this time of quiet and solitude. My mind is clear. But also my fear clouds out  my hope.  Fear woke me. Sometimes when I wake this early I believe God woke me. Presumptuous to believe that God has something for…

{be Light} a poem

be Light. God spoke and said: be Light. and whether we wanted it, when we are trying the least to be we are Light. from inside us comes creative acts, audaciously arranging the Light, into words that move stone mountains, dances that soar, minds transformed, images breaking hearts open crushing the death within, chords shifting…

Lent Diary: The Wilderness of My Spiritual Doubts (Day 3)

I. In The Wilderness of My Spiritual Doubts The pull on the soul between belief and disbelief has been the root of much of my spiritual doubt; that I cannot prove my faith, even to myself. This frequent disbelief and self-hatred are two among the many causes for me to hesitate to share my faith…

{The Dilemma of Being unHuman—And Becoming Whole} a poem

1. I want to radiate Light in a worn-out world. I want to face others with joy and eagerness. Glad to share life with one another. Life feels less weighty and onerous, when we are vulnerable with One Another. We all need community.  I long for it, then I open my mouth. I always seem to be…

If Winter is Dying, then Writing is Life

This isn’t my usual type of post. I have some thoughts ruminating into a slow boil. Aching about justice & the Stand Your Ground law and being white and privileged. A response. But I need more time to mull. I finished the article on loving a drunk for Today’s Christian Woman. Ahem, I know. I’m not a likely writer for…

The Stones I Carry and a Band of Saintly Women

“With or without our permission, with or without our understanding, eventually suffering comes. Then the only question is how to endure it, how to accept it, how to cope with it, how to turn it from dross to gleam.”   Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year A saint (noun) is a virtuous person, particularly good or holy,…

The Dust Bunnies and the Broken Hearts of Mental Illness

I say the things aloud. It is an effort. I want to make them come true. “I will clean today. I will cook dinner. I will go to the bank.” Even as I speak the words I know how unlikely it is that I will be able to do more than sit here. Breathing under water is life…