{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:…

Weird, Wacky, Wonderful Life?

Weird, wacky and wonderful at the same time, was returning from this vacation. I’m all upside-down. I’m tired, and head-achy, and did I mention tired and that just makes no sense for someone who spent two weeks doing next to nothing.  I finished reading one book and did little else, though worked overtime as usual…

{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…

Fear’s Come, Knocking

I rise early As pain wakes me, it is impatient to begin. It’s burning in my leg. I’m despondent, knowing Fear’s come, knocking Licking up my tears, FEAR holds me tight, Comforts, As I sit with her.  I know FEAR Like an old friend. I’ve never known much else, than this devilish companion. My heart…

Life is not Pass or Fail: A Mother’s Day Remembrance

I have always seen “weakness” as a defect and here on this blog I say a lot about what I consider to be my own weaknesses – the narrative playing in my head and here on these pages for years has been a fear that I am too broken and weak to be useful at all….

Stop Being Afraid: A letter to Us All

This will be short, a letter to the Artist inside us all but especially to me, and the Artist that I’ve been afraid to become. I’ve been thinking. I’m electrified with the current state of affairs, I know how lucky I am to have space even a few hours every day to make art. I’ve…

Dancing with the Holy: On Being Broken, Spiritually Mended and Called

It was holy—it was so intimate, so exquisite and precious, that to put it down in words here for you will diminish it immediately. That is the nature of being Spiritually Mended. There I was, clinging. I came with a cavernous pain, my need was huge. I came saying to myself I’m broken into pieces. I’m useless.  But isn’t that…

One Day: On Suicide, On Melancholy, On Living … On

It is a silent crucible brimming with ache, mostly inside. If you haven’t experienced true melancholia be glad. And it’s okay to be glad for some who have gone through cancer and depression say they’d take cancer over the adversary of depression which is really astounding. It is difficult to explain and the only reason…

Living a Life Worthy of Writing. It’s Complicated

It is Virginia Woolf who is credited with the notion that for most of history anonymous was a woman. I thought of that yesterday when a friend (who is more like a mentor) was intently praising me on my writing and expressed that I should continue. Then she said, “Perhaps you should write under a…