My ride was not unique. It wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t fun. It was basically like me–comfortable, stable, and safe. No surprises. Reliable. Always there, waiting to be needed.
What She Said, May 1: Joy Haro
I release you,
my beautiful and terrible fear.
I release you.
my beloved and hated twin,
II don’t know you as myself. . . .
I take myself back, fear.
You are not
my shadow any longer.
When God Winks
How do I hear God’s “still small voice” when I am scared of silence? I despaired thinking that to hear God I had to get comfortable with silence. It seemed impossible. A […]
The Kondo Project: A Sordid Tale of Decluttering
OR How I Slew the Nostalgia Dragon with Joy Sparking All Around! By Susan Lilley For at least four years, I have planned to “clean out my closet” during the summer. The […]
by Suzannah Gilman I have traveled across mountain and desert with my firstborn in the belly of a jet plane. I have driven him hundreds of miles more so we could […]