Happy Birthday to Me: A Look Back. And A Book Release.

I’m forty-eight today. Surreal. We will not celebrate for various reasons, none of which are as morbid as you’re imagining.  It is: no wish to celebrate (yes, I told Tom not to do anything) and being a little broke. I’m content. Instead of writing my annual birthday post, I’ve listed all the essays and poetry I wrote…

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…

Life Begins Again and Again: Seeing the Good in Depression

“The words spirit and inspire both derive from the Latin word spirare which literally means to breathe. These emotional highs and lows that we experience are just the natural breathing process of our spirits.”  The Rev. Marcy Ellen, author of The Soul Truth: Reflections for the Waking Soul Yesterday I wrote about what depression feels…

The Silent Scream: Depression & Autopilot Mom

For months I have been unable to smile honestly.  When I think about it, that I need to smile so that people don’t wonder, I can’t make my face do it.  My husband asks if I’m okay.  Yes.  I will always say yes, unless it’s really grave.  But it has not been life and death…

{My Silence, Depression’s Lies, and Faith}

I LIVE depression is a liar wailing. it hates you as much as you hate it.  and you know, you fear eventually the battle will be won. you may not be the victor. still you will fight  the raging storm inside your brain. to stop would be suicide. life goes on, you cannot stop for Love remains….

{On Seeing Syria}

“My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.” – Desmond Tutu The phone call feels absurd. We need to make a decision on a new counter top today. Meanwhile, today I’m also to write about Praying for Syria. The decision is mocking me, it’s painful and perplexing.  I cannot reconcile…

{Just Like Me: Being Introverted in the Church}

If I could have demanded anything for my shy and wary child, would I have begged God make him less cautious? Would I have wasted a wish, a prayer, even a thought on that part of my personality that I hate and have come to tolerate. Make him less afraid. Make him less like me: petrified,…

{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…

The Tale that Cautions: I was a Drunk

I write down words. I was a drunk. It hurts still, the heavy story bulges in my heart. Knowing it’s true, that’s one thing. Going back to the vomit and need and empty ache the desperation sits heavy with me again all day. But in writing comes a slow redemption. My words are a gift:…

{Don’t Simply Collect Belief, Be Changed}

Life is a dithering between Belief and Disbelief. Walking steadily, drawing Truth toward us like small prized stones found and stuffed quickly into a pocket, along the way. This Walk is unassuming and ordinary; most days are unpretentious, in the hunt for Assurance. Life is full of yearning.  I have learned. I don’t need to fear…

Daydream Believer

I break free in my day time dream, away from human suffering.  To float, up, alone and free. Sometimes as I fly away, the clouds are thick that hold me. And I trust they’ll keep me safer than solid ground. Suddenly, free-falling, I understand it was only a dream.Landing hard, here in Wisconsin’s fields. I am still human solidly…