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
Categoryjesus
maybe i might love you
maybe you’re like me. maybe light has always hit friendship at a strange angle. i’ve always looked for the true friend, the real friend, the friend i could trust no matter what. and i’ve never found her. i’m watching my daughter play in the yard with her newest friend. hours of play fly by like
here i am to worship, here i am to bow down
i smell her hair. strawberry shortcake. thin arms and legs with a head too large for any human body. i inhale and wish for the scented air i remember from the doll of my youth. i would have taped that doll to my face like i once tried to tape mazzy’s pacifier to her head
like a child
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
harry potter and true stories
we walked in a world created in one woman’s imagination. it was a real place. we heard languages from around the world spoken around, all of us lost in a shared reality that has come to mean so much to so many. we’d seen this place in our mind’s eye and now we were here.
ascending at your friend’s house
before jesus ascended into heaven, he took a walk. he led his followers to bethany on the eastern slope of the mount of olives, a sabbath day’s journey, about a half mile. he blessed them, lifted his hands and bye. mary, martha and the resurrected lazarus lived in bethany. was he walking them home? was
when the gospel goes missing
in a drawer, tucked away like a shirt, is the gospel. black and white beads on a thin string. my daughter made it in a sunday school class. its simplicity stole my heart. i put it away. reaching for a swimming suit i would see it sometimes. i liked to. it reminded me of seeds
man overboard! quick throw him this bible!
sometimes the story of jesus christ can get old. you know it already. lived, died, rose again. you know the tenets. you understand that redemption of bad situations into good that in turn can touch and change the lives of others is god’s will on earth as it is in heaven. you know that. but
codependent as the day is long
i have a real problem. i’m nearly addicted to the approval of people. it’s strange. and it strangles. it has made me do things that i’m not proud of. i’ll be the fool. i’ll be the fool for you. for me, there is a thin line between love and utter codependence. and it’s funny. it
where is god?
i’m opening the clasp between four fingers, just at the tips. it is delicate work putting on a necklace. silver on the very edge of nail and then it’s behind my back and in my mind’s eye where this smallest loop is waiting. it comes to me that god is like this. these arguments that