a collection of paths

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

taking flight

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.

a safe place to feel

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

hallelujah is another word for thank you

and i’ve seen your flag on the marble arch and love is not a victory march it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah mazzy wants to be in the choir. she’s sat in the audience applauding her brother and her sister for a few years now. she wants a turn.  but the polite email

double standards and marriage

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

let me show you a beautiful thing

i lived in three houses as a girl. the very first one stays with me as the truest home.  ten years of growing up.  ten years of not knowing anything but 7702 patton street in detroit, michigan. i don’t know when it started but i would walk two blocks down to warren road alone with one

isaac’s bay

on either side of the path tall grasses hold bursts of white butterflies when we brush against them. we can see the sea as soon as we begin our hike but as we keep on, stepping over hermit crabs as we go, a turn in a new direction puts the whole of the bay into

twentymoon

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

175 years isn’t enough

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

decisions, decisions

i’m trying to figure it out. i’m trying to understand what i’m supposed to do. am i supposed to lead?  am i supposed to write?  am i supposed to interpret? most likely its all of the above. and mother. and wife. deep breath. there is a ferocious unsettled spirit in my chest.  it rages and