The following prayer was first published in Anabaptist World. Dear FATHER, IN WHOM I try to believe, my heart feels muddled and squished, like a stress ball in a clammy hand. My mind is clouded by vague worries and muddied emotions. It feels presumptuous to ask you, the Creator of sparrows and stars, into the small
God of Broken and Little Things Read More »
Recently I saw this poem framed in the home of a dear older couple from our church. I remember hearing it long ago, so coming across it now was like coming across a dear old memory and being freshly inspired. I hope you are inspired also. No Time To Pray I got up early one
A Poem: No Time to Pray Read More »
I know a mother who lost four children when they were still tiny, their limbs and their features unformed. She wants badly to hold a child that is hers if for only an hour. But she will never know their faces, their genders, until heaven. She weeps. I know a mother who laid her four-month-old
So, I don’t think I live up to this yet…but here’s what I’ve been thinking about. *** My great grandma’s rocker had a cover on it once—blue blocks in several shades, circled by a dark blue ruffle—but I thought it ugly, so I threw it way. The wood of the rocker is worn. On the
Sitting in My Grandma’s Prayer Chair Read More »
Do you think it odd to hear me say I am working through anxiety and depression now, during this beautiful and happy time of my life? But I am. I call Ivan, ask him to pray with me. “I wish I could be with you,” he says. “Wish I could hold you.” I feel better
Putting Choice to Work for Me Read More »
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