Grief and Joy

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I walk with tears in my eyes down to my favorite viewpoint, and I pray. “God, it’s been a year and a half. I should be over this by now. I shouldn’t still be weeping about it.” But I am. I’m just tired, I tell myself. And that is true. Or maybe I’m PMSing. That may be...

Talking to Myself

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Nine months ago, my husband and I sold our beloved little Craftsman in our favorite Seattle neighborhood and moved to the suburbs. We needed to move—six people, four of them growing rapidly, in a two-bedroom house was becoming untenable. No, it was already untenable....

Holy Week 1: Lament for a Son

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In late November, I bring Jane up the steps to her friend’s house for a birthday party. I’m planning to just drop her off because I need to go to the credit union to deposit some checks. My friend Karen is inside, dropping off her daughter, too. She’s been traveling....