this week found us rushing to the doctor’s office. abraham had been quiet about his sore throat, but the pain had gone on too long. i scrambled to get all of them and me in the van and down the road. i don’t like being late. as we hummed along, the snowflakes fell fatter and
sometimes the title of my blog is a swift kick. my life is good. my life is good. like a mantra, i need to remember what makes a good life. it is not me-time. and it is not date nights. it is not getting away from the things that make up my life. it is
my last post came from a meditation on civil rights, the lack of those rights for people with cognitive disabilities and jesus, who like both of the other groups, bore the weight of the sins of others and was blameless. just clarifying. ~z
it’s hard to accept the blame for what you did not do. it’s hard to have your hopes, held high above your head, tipped off the fingers and watch, falling, smash on the ground. it must be. it must be hard to tell those you love what you mean, four times even, and still no
i’ve been savoring the days. days are long. sometimes there’s enough in one to send us over the edge. perspective is needed. with the dimming of the winter sun, i turn thoughts toward home. i think it’s the cold. it tucks us all in. retreating, i find i like closing the door and saying goodnight
yesterday, i got some good news and i got some bad news. the good news is that god is still god. the bad news is that i’m still blind and deaf. i have no eyes to see, i have no ears to hear. i still grope my way in darkness, self reliant to the core.
Wedding Day All the days you believe won’t come – They do. I do. Then they leave quick and abandon you entirely, never promising a damn thing. You are left with the dishes and the baby and the same scratch of beard that you’ve known for years. And God. Picking up a sponge ain’t
Weather at the window. There is no lock clicking into place so safe as this. Rain, wind, snow, it doesn’t matter. This pane stands clear and as divisible as the word. Family. I am inside. That storm, rage and all, is out. I lay quiet and warm while rain, cold with ice intentions, hits against
it’s the little things. my life is filled (like yours) with minutes and hours and people. i make decisions that change the outcomes of my day and the day of those i live among; each hour, for good…for not. we got some of our list accomplished. now it’s monday. and the house lies in ruins.
lately my children have made their way back to the front of my mind… i can’t imagine why… there is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end leads to death. my children have started to go to school, with everyone else. every day…all day. i was enjoying it, really i