• Thoughts

    Broken Wires – Apologies and Forgiveness

    This morning my kids are at school and I’m home pondering apologies and forgiveness for the routine conflicts experienced in family and friendships. One of my own struggles is that after I have wronged someone, even if I have apologized and they say they have forgiven me, I still feel the brokenness. I can shoulder the hurt for years and stash it away to beat myself up with later. Sometimes if I’m the one wounded, I don’t address hurtful actions but blame myself for having high expectations or assuming a friendship was tighter than it was. I’m not in therapy and haven’t studied these topics, but I suspect this isn’t…

  • Thoughts

    Relationships with Words

    This post feels a bit heavy-handed on “words” — but given that the physical tethers have been stretched thin during COVID, words are often all we have to go on in our relationships. I can be a vulnerable person, or at least come off as such, in the way I use written word to process feelings. When I feel prolonged dissatisfaction, shame or sadness, I often work my way through and rise above them by wrestling with words. It’s like being a broody hen, who feels all sorts of ways and sits on her eggs until they have hatched. My words are my eggs, an expression of myself. I share…

  • Thoughts

    When God Doesn’t Burn it All Down

    Remember how God sent Jonah to call the people of Nineveh out of their evil ways and back to Him? Jonah was so offended by the people of Nineveh that he didn’t want to offer them God’s message of reconciliation, and he actually first ran the opposite direction. He ran so hard that he endangered the lives of sailors and ended up as fish bait before he relented to God’s big ask. When the people of Nineveh did listen and repent, Jonah was livid that God forgave them. He was so ready for God to burn it all down, that he missed that God’s heart was to be reconciled to…

  • Thoughts,  Travel

    Whitetop Weekend

    My dad’s mom suffered Alzheimer’s and dementia at the end of her life, and it seemed she remembered childhood bits, but then there were huge chunks of time missing. I’m not a rock climber, but I believe documenting memories and thoughts is a little like when a climber clips in to a new anchor once they’ve finished a pitch. Not all is lost if they slip up. So here I am, clipping in a minor memory because it all matters. There is glory in climbing to new heights just as there is glory in watching the flowers sway in the wind. Having a child start middle school has really taken…

  • Thoughts

    In the trailing days of summer

    In the trailing days of summer, on the first cool swish of autumn air, I catch the exhale of my youth. The spirit of my former myself whispers of her hopes and possibilities and sighs of her solitude. She lifts my bones and blows my hair, and for a moment we nod in recognition, marveling at the turning leaves, relishing the transformation, wondering if we alone see. When I walk trails alone, I find her, my old companion, the one I always thought was broken but was only in constant Fall. I dance the dances she dared not, she sings the songs I no longer can. yet we touch palms…