Italian Villas and Morning Confessions

Italian Villas and Morning Confessions

I sat in her office, staring at a golden-framed poster of an Italian villa.  How did I wind up here? In honor of this new skin on the old blog, I’m throwing an open house. For the month of July and into the first days of August I am going to introduce you to...

Why No Comments?

As my husband says, I’m not the “bloggiest” of bloggers. With hearts-needing-tending under our roof, with 15+ years of combined fatherlessness to work through … as well as the many years of my own living like I had no Father, I’ve...

No Hands

Sometimes even the one who finds words to be their heart’s outlet needs to live the story and not write about it. The swirl in our lives and around this adoption has been rich with color and depth we didn’t anticipate. I am living (daily) death and...

Adoration

My emotional rise and fall is determined within the almost-undetectable. The still, small movements of my mind and heart — too fine to be caught by any filter I might employ — are where my greatest battles are fought. And there are two areas of my life...

The God of New

Twenty minutes felt like hours, both because of what happened between when my boots first crunched across the hardened day-old snow and when I returned into the fire-warmed lodge and because of my body’s adverse reaction to anything below sixty degrees. I stood...

Abundance

A few years back, I surprised Nate with tickets to Handel’s Messiah, but the gift ended up being mine. For two hours I sat fixed on the musicians whose unique expression of personality, diligence, and passion was fused into something that made me worship the One...
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