Prodigal Blood: a response to Sheridan Voysey’s Resurrection Year

A post by Priscilla Pope-LevisonThe day before I started to bleed I turned 30. Jack and I celebrated my birthday and a baby on the way underneath a crystal chandelier in the dining room of our 1920s home. So many corners of the house needed work, like most of the homes on the once posh street in Kansas City, but we had fallen in love with its delft-tiled fireplace, crisscross wooden beams, and real crystal chandelier. We planned to restore the house to its original glory, starting with the … [Read more...]

Stumbling Upon Silence: Our reflections on Sheridan Voysey’s Resurrection Year

Wrong WordsIt’s been twenty-five years, and words spoken after our first miscarriage still rankle. People didn’t know when to shut up when faced with our misery, so they dispensed silly vending machine formulas—a Snickers Bar, a bag of chips, a God-has-a-purpose box of cheap theology and pop psychology.Like Job’s companions on the ash heap, like his self-appointed comforters among the shards of broken pots, they always had something to say. Comforter 1: “There’s nothing to worry about, i … [Read more...]