by Leah Perrault | Jun 7, 2017
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...
by Leah Perrault | Apr 19, 2017
Easter has arrived and we have celebrated the resurrection. I have small bits of foil all over my house as evidence. The stone has been rolled away and Jesus is not there. The empty cross proclaims the good news and ushers me into a fifty-day season for practicing...
by Leah Perrault | Mar 13, 2017
I have been wading barefoot into silence for the last several weeks, not having adequate words for the weight of things. Just days after writing about carrying each other, our world crashed into silence with the delivery of our baby at just ten weeks. We held her tiny...
by Leah Perrault | Oct 27, 2016
Photo Credit: Jolyn Sloan The sunset as I drove out to a retreat for women this past weekend was one of the most beautiful I have seen in my life. The clouds were perfectly layered, the sun weaving between them, the trees and grass of the prairies dancing in response...
by Leah Perrault | Aug 26, 2016
Photo Credit: Sandy Normand I’m not ready. The fall is coming hurdling towards me with all the speed of Usain Bolt and I would really rather not, thanks. It happened late last week. I woke up and went outside with the puppy and the air had changed overnight. From...
by Leah Perrault | Apr 28, 2016
Photo credit: Me (The dust is free, a sign of my rest.) Rest calls me. It taunts me after 11 pm, when I am awake and I know I should have been in bed half an hour ago. It evades me when I have fifteen minutes to spend any way I would like and I choose to return the...
