When Hope Died

Oh it was bleak Those days in between. When hope was dead. Not wounded or missing, ill or asleep but dead. Lamb followed freely to the execution tree And before their own eyes, hope breathed his last. Spear pierced in, evidence poured out Body was lowered, wrapped-up, entombed. Hope said it himself, with final exhale:…

My Word for the Year is a Four-letter One: Part 2

So apparently Joy Behar thinks Mike Pence is crazy, for talking with Jesus and all. In a way, I get that. Why wouldn’t she think Pence, or anyone, is crazy for following and listening to someone she probably thinks was a good, but dead, teacher. Unless you believe the resurrection, talking with Jesus is  crazy….

My Word for the Year is a Four Letter One

The new year is off to a rocky start. That’s the sense I’m getting from more than a few people I’ve talked to. And although I could make a gratitude list as long as my dining room table, my January didn’t start off so hot either. Feverish, maybe because by the time January rolled in…

Put Down, Pick Up

It’s a new year, a fresh start, and blahbity blah blah blah. (Pardon my bout of cynicism; i’m under the influence of Sudafed.) Most days, sharing anything close to parenting “wisdom” seems laughable. It is laughable. If you’re like me, you’ve wished for a do-over button on more than a few occasions. Even so, over…

Little Did We Know

This is us four years ago. The autumn when my husband cashed in airline miles and booked a trip to visit friends in France without telling me, (which yes, is romantic, but also stress and argument inducing) and sold his blood–or plasma rather–to help pay for it. You might say we have a wee bit…

Making Room

This week I asked my kids to remove a TV series from our Netflix queue. For me. A show I was watching. It was a good show to watch if I had the TV to myself with laundry to fold or bills to pay or toenails to cut. Good as in entertaining and funny and…

Facedown

July has been a month of face on the ground praying. I don’t mean to sound woeful, nor do I want to imply that prostrate praying is super spiritual or noble or better. It’s not very pretty. It involves cramped knees (for the over 40) and more than a little snot because face down praying…

Got kids? You’ll have regrets.

I had bought into a lie. Subconsciously, but fully. Maybe you have too. It has to do with motherhood and regrets, how those two things shouldn’t be paired together. Somehow at some point I believed (without recognizing I believed it), that if I were a good enough mom, I wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t/ have regrets. Wishful thinking but…

Lights Please

For some of us, March madness has little to do with basketball and more to do with a mild and (hopefully) temporary insanity due to lack of sunlight. One grey day rolls into another. For weeks—or months—on end. Our souls grow grey while our skin grows paler. Where are you, O Sun? We need you….

You Are Mine

Every five years or so I eke out a poem. Usually it turns into an emotional deluge, where everything I forgot to cry about suddenly hits me and I’m left with a hundred soggy Kleenexes and a damp keyboard. Such is poetry. I was asked to write/recite something for The Parent’s Summit that our church…

(Trying to)Fear Not —

(Sometimes my personal blog and our ministry blog will overlap.  This is one of those times) I’m not proud to admit this. In fact, I kinda don’t even want to talk about it. But I know oftentimes, dealing with the gunk in our lives means bringing it into the light and, well… dealing with it. This…

Birthday Giveaway

The Ground Beneath Us is one year old and you may be the recipient of a birthday gift! (keep reading 🙂 One of the greatest JOYS for me this past year has been meeting with readers. It’s always fascinating to discover which scenes resonated or angered or delighted. What brought you to tears, what made you laugh,…