Archive
4:57 AM. I’m wide awake. Today I’m writing my blog. Waiting until the last minute is my typical pattern. Today is different. I search for answers and understanding. Our country’s racial wounds are on my mind as thousands take to the streets to protest. My heart is broken by all the pain I see. How
Would I have stopped and taken this picture months ago? I wonder. There is a deeper noticing happening in my life. Is it happening for you also? Are the birds singing more? Or am I more attentive to their songs? The whole planet is on pause. Well, except for essential workers. They are having a
There is a great healing afoot. Creative Spirit keeps bursting forth. Evidence of this is in my daily Facebook newsfeed. I see how she calls all of us forth. Either we are making things or are in awe of what’s shared, or both. Creativity feeds us. This is especially true in disruptive times. In my
What creates strong childhood memories? Our children no doubt have some doozies. In 1977 I tacked my personal manifesto on the front of our avocado green refrigerator. Like Martin Luther I was looking for reformation. He used nails. I used magnets. We both demanded change. Deb was 10 years old and Doug was 12. I
A decade ago Don and I met with Father Cory of All Saints Church in Saugatuck. The three of us sat in that beautiful treetop room. We explored how I might use the church’s retreat house for my programs. That talk led to a nearly a decade of programs. The treetop room became our circle
My eyes slide over photos as I flip through my iPad library. Like minutes on a clock, these images measure the passage of time. Faces of loved ones, age before my eyes. Granddaughters go from girls to young women. Still others, like Don’s parents, disappear from recent family gatherings. I wonder, “What will 2019 bring?”
Do you remember a favorite gift you received? I’m guessing a part, maybe a big part, of its specialness was because the giver truly saw you. The “I see you” message may not have been spoken but it was reflected in the care that was used to select the gift. Maybe it came with a
A blur of jump rope passes by my eyes and then slaps the pavement. The girls holding the ends of the rope start the counting rhyme. “Down in the valley where the green grass grows, there sat Nancy sweet as a rose, along came Johnny and kissed her on the cheek. How many kisses did
Bags of food and supplies gather in the kitchen as I pack up for the spring retreat. There is a gathering energy in me also. Visions of entering a sacred space with a handful of women fill me. I wonder, “What are they feeling as they ready themselves for this journey?” We will move deeper
I sit at my desk. I wonder. “Can I?” Unbreakable, the title of my new book, challenges me. Writing always does. Yet, this book presents a unique test. It’s impossible for me to write about our unbreakable core without exploring my own brokenness. That is my stopping place. Do I have the courage to be
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