Since I’m imagining most of you spent your high school and/or college careers in the nineties, I’m hoping that a Natalie Merchant song was at some point part of your coming of age soundtrack. For me: 10000 Maniacs’ “Because the Night” needed to be sung with an elaborate car dance that my college roommate Jamie and I made up and performed in transit anytime either of us was in need of a pick me up. Anything from Tigerlily, which was… Read more

This past Friday night, I found myself in the midst of a second fear-filled sleep for the toddler who must imagine terrible slime monsters on the walls of my parents’ basement, where the crib is stationed. (It sounds worse than it is, by the way. The basement in my parents’ house is finished with its shelves covered in my mother’s bright, happy Pez collection. Though I guess a multitude of Pez dispensers could be extra freaky to a 22 month… Read more

I’ve been wanting to share a little about our current Hopkins poem: why I love it, what it’s been meaning to me, what I hope you’re getting out of pouring it into those crinkly recesses of your brain. But I have to admit, I’m tired and off schedule (it’s never easy for me to write when I’m not at home in normal life…and right now I’m visiting family), and feeling a bit sheepish because I’m the worst mom in the… Read more

There’s something so comforting about sitting in my “bedroom,” the one I grew up in, with its ridiculous amount of childhood stuffed animals still lining shelves and its hot pink and yellow mural my brother painted for my 17th birthday forever quoting John Keats: “More happy love! More happy, happy love!” I’m home. August and I spent the day flying to Texas and we will spend the next ten days lazing in the comfort of it all. For the past… Read more

It’s Thankful Tuesday. Last night I left my child in the care of a new friend and joined my husband in a home full of acquaintances, drawn by our common love for teenagers. We were there to hear from an older couple who are legends in the ministry I worked for (professionally and as a volunteer) for the past eight years. Bob and Claudia spoke about their lives helping establish Young Life in the fifties, loving kids, and watching miraculous… Read more

Glee is my dream show. I love musicals. I love silliness. And I love high school. No. Scrap that. I did not love high school when I was in it. But, somehow, high school people became my career. And I love high school people…which means I’ve spent a LOT of time in and at high schools since leaving the one I attended in the nineties. So, when I watched the Mattress episode (this past weekend…we’ve been catching up on Hulu),… Read more

I’ve shared on this blog how I’m often embarrassed by the label I carry as a stay-at-home mom. Yes, I’ve complained about it…and worried about how I’m failing the cause of women in the workplace by my family’s conscious decision that I should stay home (work I feel happy and satisfied in) while Chris spends his day at a typical business job. I know we’re traditional. But we’re also realists. Attention, Hohorst family: Which of the two of you can… Read more

When I first began to follow the seasons of the Church, I was surprised to find that Easter was not intended to be a one-day festivity, but was set up as a seven-week period of celebration. I love that we don’t just prepare ourselves for a day of commemorating Christ’s resurrection, but we live in it for a while. We marinate in the stories of those who encountered Christ in his post-resurrected body. We have time to not only meditate… Read more

Yesterday was MLB’s opening day! I’m not the world’s biggest baseball fan. But I love my husband, who loves his Phillies. And I’ve always been a fan of warm spring days at the ballpark, with a hot dog in hand… My mother in law is here visiting. I know that doesn’t usually bring out a mama’s fuzzy thankful feeling…but I love her and I’ve missed her. And yesterday she sent me out during nap time to get myself a latte… Read more

Descending Theology: The Resurrection From the far star points of his pinned extremities, cold inched in–black ice and blood ink– till the hung flesh was empty. Lonely in that void even for pain, he missed his splintered feet, the human stare buried in his face. He ached for two hands made of meat he could reach to the end of. In the corpse’s core, the stone fist of his heart began to bang on the stiff chest’s door, and breath… Read more

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