than many sparrows

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

hand me that baby!

christmas was as close as i came to jesus as a child. i wasn’t told the story.  there wasn’t a countdown to the manger in my house.  i didn’t hear about the blessed virgin turned away at the inn ad nauseum. instead my brother and i helped my mom assemble the christmas tree in the

closing papers and the letter of the law

“sign here and initial here.” there are many papers to be signed.  we are buying a house, we are selling a house.  the closer across the table has a wide smile and glasses halfway down her nose. “this paper just says that if there are any typos that you’ll come to the office and resign

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accepting jesus: not as simple as once believed

i’m setting up chairs for bible club. joshua and i teach children’s church once a month at the little detroit body we’ve been calling home on sunday mornings.  the sun is flooding in through second story windows and i’m feeling humbled. i tried to plant a church.  whether or not you think i tried hard

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psalm 34:18

the lord is close to the brokenhearted; he saves those whose spirits are crushed. our friend tells us that he’s been tore up ever since his mother died and i’m thinking that he doesn’t know how right he is. the words brokenhearted in the bible translate in the hebrew like this: to tear the inner man

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detroit is smarter than you

well, not too many of you picked up the gauntlet to write your own stories out.  i feel a little like i did that day with the friend i wrote about.  telling you my deep, dark secrets only to be met with silence. but that’s okay. the person i referenced in the story i shared

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i got nothing

i really don’t know what to tell you. i don’t have words and the words i have i don’t like. i feel like detroit. all the people are gone.  the people who come around aren’t good enough.  and the ones who never left?  well, i’m tired of them. dissatisfied detroit. will any word ever be

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when you’re privileged

  i am just another white woman walking in his shop. just another tourist on vacation with my blonde hair and my cute as a button daughter. i’m picking up sandals and trying to decide if i want to spend too much money on shoes. “quaint.” earlier i’d heard a man say it behind me

the surface of the waters

“the vision god gives is not a castle in the air, but a vision of what god wants you to be. let him put you on his wheel and whirl you as he likes, and as sure as god is god and you are you, you will turn out exactly in accordance with the vision.

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enough already

i kind of can’t take myself anymore. i’ve been so gloomy and morose and guttural on this blog as of late.  well, i don’t know if one can actually be guttural, but it seems fitting. i have good things.  my life is good.  that used to be the name of this blog before i changed

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