As a mother, I do not promise to avoid every argument. Fighting for my family entails being a weathered face that can take a punch, the wrinkles deepening around my eyes as I stare through
My tools are out, drafted for duty into the unjust Hair War: shampoo, conditioner (wash-out and leave-in), combs, various brushes, and the blow dryer—silent, they stand ready to perform with grim obedience. I’m the villain
I stand at the granite surface of the kitchen island, chopping kielbasa into coins and feeding dry spaghetti noodles through each smoky disc for a dish in progress for dinner. A lone fly buzzes around,
We moved from the old house—the only house our big kids had ever known—to have a basement like the one we have now. There was more to it, obviously: The old neighborhood was transitioning from
I say I’m a pinball, and I’m glad the machine belongs to God. I can look back and see that when I started dreaming about things and feeling an urgency to take certain steps, it
I honestly forget who I am sometimes. I think I’m a writer. But writing’s ✍🏽 something I can do. I think of myself as “Mom,” especially because my people call me that – “Mom,” “Mama,”
Imagine yourself running through life with a glass vase as you carry everything else it’s your job to carry… You’re eventually going to drop that vase, you know? And it will crack like an iPhone
So many things have happened since I last blogged about my unique take on friendship and, being a mom and wife in Christ… No writing has been happening, but I have cleared my office of
Maybe I’ve been watching too much of my favorite baking show, but I see now that parenting puts said parent on a floured counter to be kneaded and rolled. We get worked until the gluten
My people, go you out of the midst of her, and deliver yourselves every man his soul from the fierce anger of the LORD; And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of