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mountains and horizons and kindergarten graduation
What I will remember is this. Not the way he flashed our I love you sign when the principal told the kids to wave to their parents in the crowd. Not the way he snapped his fingers all cool-jazz-like to the peppy beat of the classic kindergarten songs, a happy hipster belting out tunes about flowers and sun…
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the easiest way to celebrate Trinity Sunday
Today is Trinity Sunday. How best to live it out? Love your family. Yes, it is this simple. And this hard. Because if God is a community of love, a trinity of persons, a three-in-one, then the very best way we have to celebrate this central truth of Christianity is to be a community of…
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feed, tend, repeat.
(Meditations on today’s Gospel. Typed with one hand, lamb in lap.) Do you love me? I say the same things all day long. Sit down. Use your fork. Don’t hit each other. Say please. Chew with your mouth closed. Don’t interrupt. Be kind. Say thank you. Hurry up. Take turns. Be gentle. Don’t yell. Watch the baby.…
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the shadow side
When my brothers and I were younger, we loved to tip over the big rocks that lined my parents’ gravel driveway. Often it took two of us to pull and pry and plop a stone onto its side so we could peer underneath. The dirt was rich and loamy, full of slimy worms squirming back into the soil…
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the problem (and the promise) of mother’s day
I am a mother. Mother’s Day is not supposed to be hard. Glossy ads and glittery cards tell me this. I am supposed to enjoy a light and easy day! Put up my feet and pamper myself! Delight my children’s affection! Bask in my husband’s gratitude! Eat breakfast in bed or indulge in sweet desserts or let the…
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the holy sacrifice of the mess
In French, the word for the Catholic Mass is “la messe.” First as a student and then as a resident of France, this translation always struck me as slightly irreverent. I understood its Latin roots (Ite, missa est – “Go forth, the Mass is ended” – gives the same root of the word for both French and English). But every…
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what we hold tight & what we let go
I finally tossed the stack of papers into the recycling bin, the post-op instructions we brought home after surgery. That laundry list of every possible complication and horrific side effect, the worries you watch for like a hawk when you first come home from the hospital, clutching the doctor’s instructions as if they were a lifesaver. I felt…
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until it stays open
God breaks the heart again and again until it stays open. (Hazrat Inayat Khan) You have two choices when you feel it happening. You can let your heart stretch to the point of ripping open to the beauty and agony of living in this mortal world. Or you can pull the protective shield back over the…
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we care about the crumbs
In our family’s parish, we eat bread. (This is not a theological discourse on the real presence; this is a simple recipe.) Each Sunday, instead of the thin white wafers traditional to Catholic communion, our priest breaks brown bread. It is held high in his hands for all of us to see and heaped high on silver…
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the holy beautiful of right now
The sink is piled with crusty bowls from breakfast and crumbed plates from dinner. Four loads of laundry sit in the silent dark of our upstairs bedroom, waiting to be folded. Piles of Legos cover the coffee table. Two decks of cards are scattered across the living room floor. Half-broken crayons line the kitchen baseboard. Three…
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when you’ve done everything the wrong way
I sat there squirming in my seat, fingers cramping from writing too fast, frantically trying to scribble down everything she said. Publicity must done be in advance of publication; six months minimum if you want anyone to notice; early early early is all that matters. A solitary Saturday, a workshop with writers, a warm cup of tea in one…
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here is the prayer
I stir in the dark before dawn. Black trees outlined through our windows slowly sharpen into focus as the sky lightens into blue behind them. I slip between sleep and waking, but reluctantly leave the dreams behind for good. I think of turning towards the prayer book on the nightstand and resting my eyes on a…
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