It’s December 27th and the house is as quiet as the snow that silently blankets everything outside of our windows in the predawn blackness. The only light in the room glows from our Christmas village where it sits merrily on the mantle, high above greedy fingers whose enthusiasm threatens to crack its delightfully delicate rendition of an idyllic Christmas. The sight the villagers look down upon, however, is another story.
Visiting Elizabeth: The Gift of Presence and Friendship
God Is in the Details
Seeing Through the Veil
Via Dolorosa
Awe in the Temple
You Can't Buy It
Blowing Wishes
What If It Hurts?
Marks of... Love?
Just a Touch
Feed Me
Waiting in the Darkness
I Will Give You Rest
An Empty House
God in the Kitchen Sink
Wailing for Waffles
My one-year-old eats a waffle for breakfast every morning. Despite that I have never failed to feed him, he inevitably wails for the entire two minutes it takes to pop up from the toaster. I sing and dance, trying to distract him. I explain that the waffle needs to cook. Nothing helps; the waiting is too painful.