it’s difficult when things are taken away. when the comfortable old shoes can’t be found and then you remember that you gave them away because you knew it was time. i’ve been hearing god tell me to stop doing some things for a long time. and i agree intellectually – i mentally assent, but dallas
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
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.
apparently twenty years isn’t very long. when i was young a month seemed never ending and a year felt so vast that it couldn’t be conceived. but tomorrow joshua and i will have been married for twenty years. somehow it doesn’t feel like very much time has passed at all. i remember those days leading
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
i like voting. i like being anonymous and alone in a voting booth. i like how quiet it is and how no one else can come in, look over my shoulder and tell me who to vote for. i like the polished gymnasium floors i have to walk across and the people sitting in metal
i’m trying not to complain. trying to keep it close and finish the summer well. but self-care is real. introverts are real. and one person caring for three people everyday for three months is a draining occupation. i’m past entering in. i’m past getting myself to a yoga class. i’m past a girl’s night out.
i forget that the most compelling thing about me is jesus. i forget. in the forgetting i lose myself and become ungrateful, confused. am i a good mother? it is because jesus has wrought my iron will in his gentle hands. is my marriage remarkable? it is because he has been remarkably generous to two
The Lord hates dishonest scales, but he is pleased with honest weights. ~ Proverbs 11:1 i remember when i got that this verse wasn’t about weights and scales. i was sitting in my parent’s backyard at their picnic table. my mother’s garden is the literal well-watered garden. but that’s just another metaphor for the good life, too.
while studying sign language i learned that hearing people who have a deaf child regularly do not learn sign language themselves. they don’t learn it even when signing is the preferred mode of communication of their child. it’s a complicated issue with a long history and strong opinions on many sides, but as a student, to