There are always flowers for those who want to see them. —Henri Matisse, translated by Sophie Hawkes Some days, joy comes easy. Those are the sunny, shalom days, when hope is high and pain is low. It flows like river those happy golden days. But other days you have to take joy. Take-Joy Days You…
I had some intense, unexplained pain last week. The constant ache made it hard to think, hard to write, and hard to smile, plus it kept me awake. Just to sit—to sit—made me wince. My margins for movement were razor-thin. I learned that hurt constricts, that pain makes life feel tight. Then, in the throes,…
Maybe this one beautiful life is a grand unpeeling, humbling, coming down. Maybe this is the gift. Onion-Peeled Me The layers keep coming off. I call them parenting peels. The stripping of layer, after layer, after layer or unspoken judgmental veneer, “My child would never do. . . would never say. . . would never…
What rolls off your tongue when you’re in trouble? What comes out when you’re in a prison or a cave? How do you pray? Like A Song, It Came “Help me,” “Heal us,” and “Have mercy,” are desperate prayers my God has heard lately. There’s also been that prayer for a prodigal. But last night,…