Tipping the Scales
Death, in our lived experience, is horrifyingly final.
Ansley Kelly (’16) is an enthusiastic Wegmans employee and joyful graduate student in Buffalo, NY. She is committed to developing her leadership competence in service to others and believes that diligent leadership is an act of love. In recent years, she has wrestled through the thickets of chronic illness to find hope and peace in her deepening faith. When she’s feeling well, she enjoys sailing and skiing. When she’s not, she enjoys reading whatever’s close and taking mid-morning naps.
Undercooking the Turkey
I walked our meat department every day looking for the perfect bird on which to dote and ultimately roast to golden, crispy-skinned perfection.
Lifetimes: The Gifts My Father Gives
Then there’s hunting, and the days that dad would pull us out of school for a “family emergency” so that we could chase after dogs who chased after pheasants and then watch as their iridescent feathers caught the autumn sun.
Compassion, Dignity, and Adult Diapers
A nurse stood at my head, encouraging me to take slow breaths.
And That’s the Hard Part
I haven’t been well enough to take a trip with a friend in three years.
Lease on Life
I couldn’t remember what it felt like to have something left at the end of the day.
Hold It Loosely
Blind tenacity doesn’t quite seem to fit this season.
Brené and Me
This is not the place to use your energy. Smile and move on.
Not in Pain
I figured that she deserved to hear about one sunny day when I wasn’t in pain.
Meditations on Gratitude
I used to think that gratitude would rob me of joyful anticipation.
Monsters Underfoot
I feel beautiful and wicked—flying fast and fearless.
The Urgent Reality of Heaven
If all of creation is spinning towards destruction, why does anything matter at all?
Our Actual Lives
Even if all I managed was driving to the patrol room and re-stocking my pack, I wasn’t going home to the couch.
Field Notes on Hunting
It is remarkably easy to forget the fullness of story in each chicken breast.
All Creatures Great and Small
The rawness of this proximity to life makes me feel vulnerable, sort of like therapy but without the armchairs.
Drink the Wine, Burn the Candle
Her comment broke the meditative silence of our post-dinner respite, and we stumbled into the idea with the dazed confusedness of young students in the presence of wisdom.
Looking Forward to Everything
Choosing hope today doesn’t deplete what’s available to us tomorrow.
Landlocked
I used to finish races like that so sweaty and happy and exhilarated that I didn’t need any rum to feel like the queen of the world.
Creation
And yet, even there, in that peaceful place, my brow furrowed with unrest.
Ten Traits I’m Looking for in a Husband
I didn’t expect to be single at twenty-five, but here we are.
Mississippi Dog
At that moment, Cline walked up and said, in his miraculously gentle drawl, “You can take her home if you want to.”
Fear, Formula, and Getting Better
It’s like merging onto a highway when you’re not sure you remember how to drive.
My Mother’s Grey Hair
My mother has earned every one of her grey hairs.
Waiting in the Dark
This is the grace of God: that in our darkest grief and our most motionless despondency, He continues to move.
Buy the Damn Christmas Tree
Among all of the challenges that I imagined were standing between me and a tree, allow me to share some of my favorites.
Mending Fence
This October sabbatical, as I am calling it, is not what I would have chosen.
Stacking Wood (The Homestead Still Teaches)
I learned that home is a team sport.
C is for Cravings
When unchecked, they are bad toddlers, eating bags of gummy bears and staying up all night.
Butter & Sugar: Salt & Light
Cookies are a way of saying I can’t fix all of the hurt, or make the bad days go away.
Disappointment, Victory, and Not Telling Mom
What I learned on this year’s Dover was how to sit in the disappointment with friends and then to race around joyfully on borrowed red bicycles.
