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.
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
a friend lets me know that he doesn’t want me to take this the wrong way, but he has a question. “do you live at the beach?” and i smile. i wish. another good friend told me recently that she loves me, but that i really need to back off in my parenting style. i laughed
pain doesn’t like to be looked at straight on. it’ll distract and deflect and will look in any direction except back into your eyes. that’s what that judge was doing. she forced pain to sit down in a chair and held its face forward, refusing to let it turn away. then the girls could get
these days of muted light feel just about right. sometimes my heart feels wide open, easily accessible, like the bright blue. but not lately. no, when the sun gets further away, a thin sheet of ice weathered from the events and circumstances of the year forms. the thin places turn into visible pools of murky,
maybe your family tree is a little bit of a thicket. a gnarled bramble of fallen and crisscrossed limbs and branches. the holidays approaching might tick towards you like an unstoppable hour and put your origin story front in center in your mind. just how did you arrive on this planet? its been a weekend
my daughter told me i have a beautiful heart and that i needed to keep my peace, keep my calm, so the morning after the election i ended up at a yoga class. the instructor arrived and unlocked the door. she was a young black woman. she said good morning and i said it back.
the other day a trusted friend hurt my feelings. i have a long and complicated relationship with friendship. it seemed best to begin to plot my revenge immediately. i figured out the ways to protect myself and to hurt back. i felt better. i also felt small. like when i was child and i wanted