it’s the small, secret things that make a life. the hidden actions between you and your creator that you don’t regret, but rather forget, immediately, because there was no wrongdoing, only pure motive, that will be remembered out loud, from the rooftops, on that day. i’m sick of social media and its law of diminishing
The communal reality that God hopes for creation is shown even in the way God has decided to explain itself to us. Father, Son, Holy Spirit. I would submit that in our present day you could also express that; Mother, Daughter, Holy Spirit. Father’s Day being Sunday and all, I’ll use the former wording today.
The other night we went to Gigi’s Playhouse. It was teen night – young people with Down syndrome, 17 years old and up. They were getting together to hang out. We’ve done this before, met with groups, hoping for connections, hoping for more than a simulation of a night out with friends, hoping for friendship.
Has this blog ever been about anything else? Mazzy. Mazzy. My first child. The girl who changed the world. My world anyway. “Every child changes your whole life!” “That’s true for typical kids in friendships, too!” “All kids go through tough school transitions!” I could try to tell you how different it is to love
there are people around me all the time. before most days, most years, i was alone. now i wake up with them, drive to them, work with them, come home to them, sleep next to them and wake up with them once again. before i was around them. i took care of them, but then
my shoe pressed onto the moss in the tongass national forest. the guide explained that the air quality here is 98% pure. i felt lucky to be breathing it. lucky to be seeing a bald eagle’s nest holding two fledglings with mom and dad watching us closely. i felt lucky to sidestep a banana slug and
whale sighting this morning. one tail spotted diving back down into this vast blue steel sea. a spray soon follows and it’s enough to convince me that yes, there are whales in this ocean all around. what about twenty years from now when i haven’t been back at sea and all i have are the
a vision. god gives us a vision of dry ground becoming a pool of water. then we try to make it so. but it’s not so simple, it is not so straightforward. i have to become the vision before the vision is a real for me or for anyone else. how are you? how is the
i’d been at michigan state for maybe two full days. my roommate, stacey, played soccer. she’d put up a clock that looked like a soccer ball. the first night after my parents dropped me off she told me there was a party on the third floor and left a can of beer on the dresser for me.
last night i was talking to a group of women about emotions. we ended up fingerpainting and praying and laughing and crying. this morning i’m trying to remember how it feels to feel. i think paint may be in order. one friend said, it just felt good to have my fingers in paint. and it