An Ode to Adapters
Such a sentence reminds the world that everything is a living art, every idea can be made new again, every stone can have the moss pulled off and be rolled back down a hill.
Mother’s Day
To be honest, I doubt that feeling will ever go away, because (I have to take a deep breath before I even type this): I’m going to be a mother for the whole rest of the my life.
Dermacentor variabilis
Two more ticks joined the swimmer in the bowl. We flicked an intruder into an empty pasta sauce container and scrawled “Tick Jar” across the glass in Sharpie.
Millie and Me, and David
What I lack in affection for Millie is doubly manifest in the 6’2” 230 pound frame of my younger brother, David. His love for her would be the stuff of a tear-jerking motion picture.
Current Events
The stories from history seem recycled: different characters, sometimes different conflicts, but always the same plot. And I know that writing these words doesn’t go far enough.
Love Like Grief
I think in each of us there’s a deep well with love like water at the bottom, but if only the crawl down wasn’t so dark and our hands could carry more.
The Kids Are Alright
The clever phrasings, the lilting harmonies, the bone-soaking sadness, the hard-earned joy—it fills me up with the subtle satisfaction of uncertainty.
Faking It
Faking it, I would argue, is actually the only way we’ll make it anywhere. So few of us are born with natural, shining pearls of talent that don’t need refinement.
Nonessential Issues
It is for this reason a man can be saved by faith through works. It is a great mystery. It is a still greater mystery to me why a pastor’s theology is ever given priority over its people.
Stroopwaffel Pride and Prejudice
I’ve been consuming an odd sort of patriotism along with my stroop waffels and hagel. Maybe it’s just that the Netherlands makes sense to me in the way that Egypt does not.
