I wonder if we have ever considered that our willingness to share from exposed places is what connects us in experience to others? If we do not share stories of vulnerability, share moments of weakness, share the things we consider our failures, share perceived inadequacies or share areas in which we feel insufficient, how will …
For my Mom. You are making a difference for that one. Eight little words. But they hold so very much meaning. I am sitting down to eat. We have just half an hour before I leave again to drive back home to my little family, but thirty minutes is long enough for a story. As …
It is hard to understand, to fully comprehend: how someone who brought so much joy to other peoples’ lives could himself be eluded by that same joy and wonder. And yet, here we are on a Tuesday night, grieving the loss of a beautiful life- grief those of us who loved his work feel in …
There are days when frost covers barren ground. Like a heavy cloak. When tiny buds on frozen tree limbs shimmer with an icy glaze. When tiny shoots of new life, thwarted in process of emerging forth. Are interrupted. Dark, heavy clouds hang low and ready. There are these kinds of days. When table talk is …
There are days when joy comes sparingly. When despair sets in, and disappointment robs me of the present, the immediate. When I fall from grace. When I succumb to pain. And I am left empty. Today is such a day. And I am very aware of all that I am. And all that I am …
