On Thursday, March 15 th, 2012
I don’t know who said you couldn’t, but they were dead wrong. You could be death wish over a toilet, a flagrant sinner over a credit card, a Pharisee over a pulpit, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter a hill of beans. And it’s a hill I’d die on, because that’s exactly why a Carpenter really did: Whoever you are, wherever you’...
On Thursday, February 23 rd, 2012
It was after Mare Griebe* said she was done with me, that I knew. Mare, she had taken me to my first youth Bible study. She delivered the thick folded notes from the first boy who ever asked me out. And I had flown half across the country to be her maid of honor, then again, ten years later to hold her first baby. We talked lactation and I helped with latch and I thought we...
On Thursday, February 09 th, 2012
Ithink we were standing outside the back door, out by the white pickup under the Big Dipper, when I turned and said it. Said I hated him. The dark can make you brave. Or a fool. But when you’re twenty-two and think you know everything, panic can tear up your chest like this howl that has to rip free. “I hate it when you stand there all quiet.”...
On Tuesday, October 25 th, 2011
Working through motherhood over here in this post today… Join the conversation over here… :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
On Tuesday, September 27 th, 2011
The dark’s ever bothered me much. It’s women who have scared me. Women can haunt with shadows of their own. … Ever been wounded by women? Why hadn’t I been patient with friendship? Why hadn’t I seen that the price of being safe — is the cost of being solitary? Why hadn’t I seen th...
On Thursday, August 25 th, 2011
When Malakai’s afraid, he chews on his bottom lip like his grandmother. And there’s no getting around it: He looks like a caged coon up there in the pew before the piano — biting at his lip, hands fidgeting. He looks like he’s already flung ahead in his mind to the part of this piano adjudication nightmare where his fingers tangle on the piano keys and ...
On Tuesday, May 31 st, 2011
N ot all enemies carry arrows. My grandfather just carried a six pack and a pitiful hangover. Julie Redbook, she carried a grudge so heavy it crushed a few bones of my childhood. And there’s this woman I know who carries around the shame of slapping her son. And tearing into her good man with a tongue blade sharper than any scalpel. Been wounded, cheated, di...
On Thursday, April 28 th, 2011
In a fallen world, we trip and break our hearts. Shalom comes to me with her’s cut directly out of paper. To continue reading over at (in)Courage… :: :: ::
On Friday, March 04 th, 2011
She says she aches for me, like down inside of her, like where the winds howl and we moan. And I tell her that there are pots on the stove and crumbs on the counters and yes, wherever we are, there’s always hard things howling through the rhythms of the cooking, the washing, the dishes always stacking this side of the sink, then the other, framing all the prayers. ...
On Thursday, October 07 th, 2010
My Mama was diagnosed with split personality disorder and my dad loved me more than her. We all split. I remember how my heart did, how the shards drove into everything. How bearing secrets made the breathing hard. My mama nods now that it is all true and no daughter should ever feel that and no mama should ever live knowing that and… There are things a family never break...
On Thursday, August 19 th, 2010
When Lissa Turscott slid down her bus window and whipped that baseball hard, I felt the thud in my back and the smash of my heart and I hunched over to catch the pieces all shattering. I heard her friends all slapping her back in congratulations as the bus moaned away. Some bruises break the vessels skin deep and others just break souls and Lissa and Judith and Alexa&nbs...
On Saturday, July 17 th, 2010
I’m over here this weekend… Wouldn’t it be grand if you came to visit? I think there’ll be good food on the menu! Share your thoughts? If you would like Holy Experience posts quietly tucked into your reader or emailed to your inbox for free…