I carried one book with me across the country last week, Phyllis Tickle's The Shaping of a Life: A Spiritual Landscape. I stuffed it in the airplane carry-on with the children's coloring books. I read it by cell phone light while the toddler snored next to me. I curled up with it on the hotel bed while the city hummed and honked through another DC afternoon. I read it in Michigan where I grew up and Indiana where I went to school. I read it between reunions with family and friends. And one single chapter haunted me. Phyllis writes about the Scripture story that defined her life, faith, and identity. The one story that she discovered as a young girl, the story that became her variation on a theme, weaving its way through decades of life and work and prayer. What was my story? I turned this question over and over in my head, wondering whether there was a single Scripture story that gave patterns to my life. I envied the unity and clarity of Phyllis' vision of the world, … [Read more...] about what’s your story? the Scripture that defines us
work
turning a corner
Tomorrow I'm giving my first presentation on my book, Everyday Sacrament. We'll be talking about spirituality of parenting and simple practices to connect with God in the chaos of life with children. The sacrament of parenting. This morning I'm brimming with energy: a little nervous and a lot excited. Tomorrow will be a whole new way of sharing my book with the world, all these hopes and ideas and dreams I've pondered in the late-night hours while nursing babies and washing dishes and folding laundry. Pouring time and energy into writing about everyday parenting as a spiritual practice is a solitary way to spend one's days. Lots of stolen moments holed up in my office. Lots of late nights curled around a cup of tea. Lots of wondering - amidst the wildness of chasing three little boys - how God speaks to us in ordinary moments. It's not the slickest subject for a blog, not the sexiest subject for a book. But this work resonates so deeply with who I am and what I believe that I know … [Read more...] about turning a corner
the hard and the holy
Three times I have held this moment. A baby in my arms, round-cheeked and solemn-eyed, stretching out his chubby hand towards an ice-cold window, swirls of first snow gusting just beyond the glass. Three times I have watched. Pudgy fingers smudging up against the pane, leaving a breath of fogged fingerprints behind. Brow furrowing, steady eyes silently wondering what is this? Cold and hard are not the usual domain of babies, the newest ones whose softest skin we wrap in fleece blankets and cuddle with feathery kisses. Three times I have felt this sacred hush. What it means to introduce a child to the world outside, a world which can be hard and cold and harsh and cruel. A fleeting foretaste while still safe in mother's arms of what it will mean for them to brave the beyond. Three times I have welcomed this same invitation. To remember that what is hard can also be holy. The book is here. The hard part should be over. The dreaming and the writing and the editing and the … [Read more...] about the hard and the holy
a summer of paradox
My mother sang while hanging clothes The notes weren't perfect, heaven knows Yeah, but heaven opened anyway This I knew was true ~ Carrie Newcomer, "Leaves Don't Drop (They Just Let Go)" It was a year ago that I spent hours listening to her music in the kitchen. Swirling my hands through streams of soapy water as I washed bowl after bowl, pot after pot. Putting up the summer harvest was part of my healing after losing the baby. Doing something concrete for my family. Saving something good from the soured summer. Looking ahead to a time when it all might not hurt so much. I blanched brimming bowls of beans. I cut corn from piles of cobs. I stirred so many pots of soup and sauce, all of it spooned into bags and stacked into the basement freezer. With love, I suppose, but also longing. For what was and what wasn't and how I had no control over any of it. So for weeks I listened to Carrie's albums on repeat: gentle, soothing, pulling me away from myself. There was so much light and … [Read more...] about a summer of paradox
