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…

{rough thoughts on love and mortality in the middle years}

I have no business writing when I need to be packing, preparing, paying bills, picking up prescriptions, cleaning house, and washing laundry, readying myself and the family for me to leave town.  These are very drafty thoughts on aging parents, ailing friends, launching teenagers, and being human.     Love and Mortality in the Middle Years Our…

{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…

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,…

{This is for the Dads. I See You}

This blurry pic, a copy of a copy, is my father holding my son.  You cannot see it from this cropped copy but they are sitting on the floor. This is for the dads, I see you. Recently at wedding of two friends it hit me.  I’m past the feeling of broken-heart-ache when I see…

[I Asked God for More] than Motherhood

I woke up on Sunday full of lament. The depression that had been crushing me was now a throttling choke. I woke up straining. Strangled and gasping for air, for truth, for relief; I woke up. I woke up on Sunday already giving up. Begging for it, the answer to the question depression always asks:…

{Nightmares and Day Dreams: For Our Children}

bad dreams we free fall together. an enormous wall, grows looming. the waves rise and fall the pull of the tide, a wall in the distance threatens drowning. i grab for her, shouting “raise your head.” and still, it comes. “Childhood: that happy period when nightmares occur only during sleep.” (Unknown) I have always believed…

A Crack in Your Life, That’s How the Light Gets In

I spent most of my life numb and afraid. I spent the next while trying to fix myself.  Then, I began to let go of control. Now life is a daily letting go. “Maybe you have to have a crack in your disbelief, that’s how the light gets in.” I am fighting, kicking and screaming…

{When You’re Not Qualified to be Alive}

So I’m trying something new.  Picking a subject at random that I seem to obsess about or fixate on, something that grips my imagination in compulsive and ugly ways, (I started with one of my secret obsessions.) I’ll write honestly without  a lot self-editing or controlling “the message” to see what comes out.  No answers….

MOTHER [a poem about a parent aging]

Something shifted in the cosmos today as I became a giver, her One. The one who thinks like a pastor, fondly listening inside to her heart which is lonely. The one who touches like a nurse, open to the clues, simple hints about pain. The one who creates food to share, serving the body and…