Category Archives: Hope

To the Broken Girl on Valentine’s Day

I watch you post pictures and memes. I scroll down and stare at your hurt—my heart aching. Your desire to be loved, accepted, known sprawled on my screen with angry words and revealing poses. A longing for affection in your … Continue reading

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So. There’s This Thing Called Hope

Over the last week anger, division, and hate have fueled the newsfeeds. As millions feel the sun has slipped below the horizon covering their lives with darkness, millions of others see a sunrise bringing light to their shadows. And I … Continue reading

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When Christmas Sees Us

One after the other. Page after page. I read their answers to my question. It was a simple question. Who really sees you? Their answers? Nobody really sees me. I don’t have any true friends that would come to my … Continue reading

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A Dreary Day, Two Eagles, and an Election

Today was the damp and dreary kind. The kind that tempts with cozy socks and hot chocolate and Jane Austen. But there’s the job and the motherhood and the housekeeping. Sigh… I know I’ve been quiet. In the last several … Continue reading

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Mothering in the Dark

Ella and Caleb, My sweet ones. I knew all summer I’d write this letter. But now that it’s here, now that it’s time to write, I hesitate. Fear creeps in and I wonder what you’ll think of me. Because depression … Continue reading

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Because It’s Not About Choosing Sides

For over a week I’ve been silent. Attempting to put a broken heart into thoughts and thoughts into words and words into something that makes sense. Knowing I have something to say about our nation’s fractions and fissures but not … Continue reading

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What My Kids Need When the World Turns Dark

Last night Caleb had a nightmare. Two robbers with guns came in through his window and stole him. He’s six. My heart shudders because–what a horrific dream. I can’t pretend to think the dream wasn’t somehow related to the bits … Continue reading

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Whispers and the Still, Small Voice

I know I’ve been quiet lately—here in this space. There’s no singular reason, but rather it’s been the spinning plates or the different hats or whatever metaphor you want to give to the busy-ness of a teacher-mom running fast. While … Continue reading

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Because Sunday Always Comes

Today, Love was crucified. Today, Hope was buried. Today, Light was shut in a tomb. Grandma always said the sun hides its face behind a darkened cloud at some point on Good Friday afternoon. As if nature still remembers the … Continue reading

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