I wrote this in February, the month of Aunt Laura’s birthday, but just decided to post it today. One Easter, Aunt Laura, in her Sunday dress, pearls, white pumps, and classic white hair, knelt on the floor, nose to the ground, and showed the grandkids how to roll Easter eggs with their noses. I can […]
They’re a conservative Christian family. Church on Sundays, Bible reading every night. Born again. They’re looking for a church where their teen boys can fit in. But they’ve had a hard time finding a church that would accept them, one that isn’t a gay church, that is. I was talking to my old college roommate. […]
You know the game. You get a list of items to look for in your purse, and the one with the most items wins. It’s an ice breaker played at wedding and baby showers. Women scrounge around in their purses, rooting out long lost items, like so much buried treasure. Contents get dumped as they […]
I’m linking up with everyone on where we’re reading Grace for the Good Girl together. I just realized I’ve actually been writing about Grace for the Good Girl all along. In fact, I started this blog as an experiment in risk taking — putting myself and my stuff out there, ad hoc, unplanned, and scary […]
Minimalism is in my bones. I’m drawn to stark desert landscapes and uncluttered spaces. I subscribe to Small Notebook where Rachel has great tips on living simply, and I just discovered the Minimalist Mom. Everything I read about simplifying and downsizing resonates with me. I don’t know if it’s the economy or the precarious state […]
I watch the monster who is me pressing the blade into my brother’s flesh until his blood runs hot over my own flesh. I see my brother’s face, the shadow passing over it when he realizes what I’m about to do. I rewind and see him running towards me from across the field. He is just within arm’s reach. I can choose to embrace him, but instead I pull my knife from its sheath.
Musing on Genesis 3 “Did God really say you can’t eat from any tree of the garden?” The serpent isn’t so much attempting to verify God’s exact words as he is injecting a note of incredulity, pointing out the absurdity of God’s edict. With one word, the serpent calls into question God’s judgment, his reasonableness. […]
He was not a coward. No, not in many things. But he had an irrational fear, a foreboding almost, that someone might kill him to get at Sarah.
Cain loved the smell of the earth. His father and mother said it was cursed. “Farming was a lot easier back in the day,” his father would say, with that faraway look in his eyes. He said God had given them the job of working the earth, and Cain enjoyed the challenge of coaxing life […]
In the harem, Sarah waited. She waited to be called in to King Abimelech, or for someone — Abraham, God? — to come to her rescue. One day dragged into the next, and still nothing. God had said she and Abraham would have a child next year. Now Abraham had ruined everything. But why hadn’t God stopped him?
God did things his way and in his time, and things were not always what they seemed. He could be trusted, but he was not predictable. This much he had learned, or perhaps was still learning. How could he explain this to Sarah? How could he expect her to hope again when he could give her none of the assurances she would expect?