It’s quiet in the dark, except for the screaming. I hold my one-year-old, skin hot from fever, as he writhes against me. “No, no” he cries, little hands trying to force me away. He wants neither down nor up. I’m used to being the touch that soothes - a useless gift when everything hurts.
Read moreAnother Baby: Trusting God in the Face of Fear
I laugh as the line turns pink. Earlier this week, I told my husband that although we had been trying to conceive our second child for a few months, just one week of juggling night school, full-time teaching, and taking care of our 2-year-old daughter had made me reconsider.
Read moreVisiting Elizabeth: The Gift of Presence and Friendship
I can’t visit her. I’m taking care of two kids and I’m pregnant. It’s too far, I brush the thought away, and she probably wouldn’t want the company anyway.
But you did.
Seeing Through the Veil
My voice comes out in a low hiss, dripping with venom. My daughter’s defiant stare is a dagger that pierces my heart. The somber tones of the “Sanctus” beckon us to prayer, but I am paralyzed. I’m done.
Read moreVia Dolorosa
Do I love you enough to let you suffer? This road you walk is a painful one. Each of your wounds I feel in my own body. How, why, Lord, does it have to be this way?
Awe in the Temple
What did you feel when you saw him standing there, finally found? The rise of anger? The wash of relief? Was it then, in that moment, when you knew he was not yours to keep?