When I brought him home five years ago, I was broken too. His leg had betrayed him, shattering mid-stride when the thrill of the race outpaced his physical capability. His passion had disintegrated into pieces. I, too, scrambled to collect the shards of a dream. Hope for someone I dearly love had collided with her…Read more Shattering Into Joy
Spiritual journey
Racing for Joy
That moment when you run… not because someone told you to, not for any tangible benefit, not to prove anything to anyone (not even yourself). But simply for the sheer joy of surging through the grass, under the sky, alive in this moment. When every cell of your being trembles with the present. When you…Read more Racing for Joy
Of Loss and Hope
The grief, the loss of what she had hoped for, lapped as relentlessly, as inevitably, as the breakers crashing again and again—minute after minute, day after day. Repeating their reach and retreat for millennia. Tumbling like so much seaweed, all of what-almost-was washed ashore, only to be drug back out again. Over and over.…Read more Of Loss and Hope
One Pebble… Thousands of Ripples
I wrote this entry for the Hope's Promise blog about my dear friends, Brian and Debbie Lee. Decades ago, when I was a twenty-something campus staffworker with InterVarsity, they were leading teams of students to serve in Kenya. One summer they brought back necklace gifts with little hand-carved bone pendants for all the staff. As…Read more One Pebble… Thousands of Ripples
Summer Between
This summer is all about harvest. I still live in the city, so I'm not talking about wheat crops. No, it's a season of celebrating the growing things I love most, my children. Our oldest is thriving in a serious relationship with a woman we adore; and he will move out of state…Read more Summer Between
Always Held
For Lilia, my children, and the many others around the world who ache for a different beginning... This is what really happened... You slip into the world raw and trembling, aching for tender touch. But instead, the one you most long for walks away. You huddle there, vulnerable in an abandoned building, or a slum…Read more Always Held
A 25 Year Flame (25 years of marriage)
When I was just twenty-years-old, God lit the flame. I stood in the kitchen with my mom, probably doing something mundane like cleaning up after dinner, and divulged - I know who I want to marry. Perhaps she thought I was too young; but then again, she pledged her heart to a lifelong love (44…Read more A 25 Year Flame (25 years of marriage)
