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
“I’m 10. And I Want Girls to Raise Their Hands,” writes Alice Tapper in her New York Times editorial. This is how she recounts her experience on a recent field trip.. “I noticed that all the boys stood in the front and raised their hands while most of the girls politely stayed in the back
4:25 AM. Darkness surrounds me. Don’s sound asleep upstairs. I’m nestled in the living room window seat. A favorite place to perch for the ten years this house was ours in Ouray, Colorado. Now we rent this mountain home from its new owners. Outside my window stars spill across an indigo predawn sky. Bold outlines
We are grieving. Recently, we lost Don’s mother and father. They died sixty-five days apart and just missed celebrating their seventy-sixth-wedding anniversary. They had rich full lives. This was not a tragic loss. And yet their deaths have left holes in our hearts and lives. Grieving is an art. Like any art it’s a skill
