Allowing it to be well with my soul

Allowing it to be well with my soul

Things are well at our house, at least when it comes to cupcakes.  Every fall, our family picks coloured leaves, sharpens pencils, and gets ready for the first of two clustered birthday seasons.  We make a little banner for the kitchen, tie balloons to the appropriate...
Lost is a place, too…

Lost is a place, too…

I am lost. The weird thing about this lost, however, is that I am lost in the most familiar places – my home, my relationships, my life. One thing has changed, but that one thing has changed everything. Lost is a place too, a place of feeling unsettled, disoriented,...
Tending to the wounds of a broken heart

Tending to the wounds of a broken heart

Wounds are strange teachers. Ten days ago, I sliced through the tip of my left ring finger trying to pry leftover ice cream cake off the cardboard. (Don’t worry; I assured my inquiring brother-in-law that the cake was unharmed.) The sting was worse than the blood. And...
Tracing the Shape of the Dark

Tracing the Shape of the Dark

My sister had an old dead tree tattooed on her arm. She always meant to have dark clouds filled in behind it, but she didn’t get the chance. I asked her why a dead tree and not a living one; she said it was because she had seen the dark and the dead and gotten through...