A Letter to My Son

I used to the think space between years was just a long exhale, a breath. I solitary beat in a life that will have many, many beats. Nothing distinguishable from one inhale to the next. But then, there was you. Thirteen years ago, I spent… Read More

Blur

Standing beneath the spotlights on our small church stage, we practiced the songs for service this morning. Looking down, the words on the music stand blurred. No, not blurred, not exactly. It was as if the lights were too bright, the writing too soft, or… Read More

Letters to my Daughter: November

“I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.” Anais Nin A week ago, it was your birthday and we sat at a cafe and ordered bowls of chicken noodle soup. You propped… Read More