ESSAYS
It’s Fine. Everything’s Fine. (Except I Lit the Fire.)
Have you seen the meme of the dog sipping coffee amongst the flames? The one where he says “It’s fine. Everything’s fine”? Most days I am that dog, sitting calmly through the chaos. And yet, I also lit the fire. My anger frightens me. It lies dormant beneath a peaceful exterior, surprising everybody, including me,…
READ MOREThe Pull of the Holidays
When I think about the upcoming holidays, my mind’s eye sees all the magazine-cover images: tables set for six or eight or twelve. They’re laid out with the good china, the crystal, the candlesticks, and table décor. They’re heaped with glistening turkeys, vegetables you’ve never heard of, and pies so beautiful they could be décor,…
READ MORELights-On Love
I jumped as someone pounded on my front door. On a sleeting Tuesday morning in November, at the height of Covid isolation, we certainly weren’t expecting anyone. I cautiously opened the door and saw a teenage boy standing on my front steps. He was breathing heavily; I could tell he had been running. It took…
READ MOREThe God of Wailing and Rocking
For a few days before and after my youngest child’s sixth birthday, I was very emotional. I couldn’t stop sobbing in the little moments of my day. It was mildly alarming, until, of course, I softened enough for a memory to resurface. “How long has it been since you’ve held your baby?” the nurse asked,…
READ MOREThe Life, Death, and Resurrection of Caregiving
I am only beginning to chip away at the mystery of what a profound gift it is to be called in ways big and small, to respond to others as Jesus did. That is not to say I am particularly good at it. Occasionally though, I catch glimpses of this grace through the bleary eyes…
READ MOREThe Invisible String of Foster Care
The call from the social worker came when it usually does, which is to say at a completely random day and time. There was a baby boy getting ready to be discharged from the hospital, but his birth parents were unable to care for him. Would my husband and I be willing to foster him?…
READ MOREBroken for You
When his crying woke me, night had already descended. Worn down by seven weeks of sleep deprivation, I’d put myself to bed before sundown. This was how I’d survive the grueling newborn stage again: I’d “sleep when the baby’s sleeping” away my tiredness. I pawed at my phone and checked the time. 2 a.m. I’d…
READ MOREThe Privilege of Friendship
Gathered around the familiar multi-purpose, formica folding tables, I was the youngest of the group by at least ten years. Thursday Bible study had become a treasured time because of the insight, wisdom, and humor that these wiser women shared with me. One day, as a new session began, some younger women invited me to…
READ MOREUncomfortable Conversations: Meeting God in the Present Moment
I live with an embered faith. It has burned down low. It has almost gone out. Is it embarrassing to admit this? Perhaps. I no longer know the certainty I once had of who God is or what God wants. I most certainly do not know what God wants. I thought I knew once, and…
READ MOREThe Greatest Gifts We Can Give Our Teens
We all love a good checklist, don’t we? “Five things you must do this fall!”“Ten ways to tell your kids you love them!”“Three things every parent must do!” Where, pray tell, is the checklist for how to raise young adults who love Jesus and never stray from their faith? I’d argue that we’ve put the…
READ MOREWhat the Korean Mother Martyrs Teach Us
Reading the stories of the Korean saints to me is like sparks flying when meeting a new mom at the park. There’s the thrill of each shared connection and an eagerness for more. When I learn about the Korean saints, I find threads connecting me to them in our shared Korean heritage. As a mother,…
READ MORELoneliness, Jesus, and My Mothering Spirit
I fell apart in my kitchen a few nights after another school shooting that left children and teachers dead. My kids were asleep, and I was washing the dishes when my tightly leashed emotions finally broke free. Anger, grief, and hopelessness washed over me and my soapy, shaking hands. The weight of the vocation of…
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