The Sleeping Face of My Beautiful Boy

After the lullaby, I see the sleeping face of my beautiful boy, two years old. And at once, all the world is still. Time moves forth from this moment in reluctant ripples. Slow-moving reflections of memories, past and future that will become a whole life. Separate from my own, but always flowing in and out…

My One Small Voice

Standing at the edge of still watersin the middle of my lifelooking out on the reflection of the world that God in his lovingkindnesscreated for me to inhabitand enjoy The beauty of trees, sky, grassthe V-line of geese mirrored above and before me the sound of wind the distant moving rush of riverthe hum of…

Marking a Season

I miscarried nine days before our 15th anniversary. There we sat, across the table at a little cafe, drinking coffee together. ¬†Our six living children were home with a friend who gave us the day together to celebrate our marriage. The week before, Randy and I had privately laid the whisper of a body down…