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…

A Mother’s Lament {You cannot stop this train. Save yourself.}

These words have leaked out of me, like tears trickling down the crevices of my heart.  It’s been an all-consuming few weeks. I owe friends updates, but it feels as if there’s no space for conversation when I’m taking in heaving breaths of air just to survive and dodging sorrow’s persistent arrows. At the same time.  Time is in such…

Lent Diary: The Mundane, A Holy Awareness, Our body, and Jesus

My first Lenten post is here. These are the indiscriminate observations from days one and two.  Often, I allow dailiness of life to flood in, the tyranny of the urgent family agenda turning me half brain-dead.  Just do the next thing, if grumpily. In The Sign of Jonas, Merton says:  “I ought to know, by now,…

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 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:…

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….

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…

Starting Again, Come Monday

  “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s the day-to-day living that wears you out…”  — Chekov It is the today, yesterday, and tomorrow; the calamities converging into a sucker punch, so that my ears are ringing, bumping and bashing back and forth, I’m wobbly. I’m done.   My heart hurts, my body even hurts from the…

The not quite believable Miracle: there is Power to Change

I have a big problem with trust.  It’s as if I’m expecting a colossal smack down from Life. The question I’m always asking myself is do I make it happen, with my fear and negativity? This existential question cannot be decided simply, not today. I do know that I often withdraw from life. I’m afraid of things,…

(On Being Human — A Prayerful Poem)

We will go soon, and I’m afraid. I laid awake last night, wondering.  And in the meantime, since. I thought and thought.  My brain hurt for thinking so hard. When does rationality belay trust in God? Our souls churn, the crushing Weight of heart ache. We are sore from it.  Sleep won’t come And it’s 3:30 in the…