End the Regift Cycle. Give Them What They Really Want. On the Arvest Bank homepage, A blonde woman with shining white teeth and a barely-stubbled brunette man say, “Merry Christmas, baby! Love you,” with their eyes as he hands her the pre-packaged gift. And I was not okay with it. Once someone handed me a stack of cash as a gift, because they felt like it would make up for something, like it would bring endless joy and fix a... Read more
Travis came home with a momento for Eliot, a sign from the silent protest that took place on campus just hours earlier. He grabbed the tape, opened the folded white computer paper, and told Eli to spell it out. “B-L-A-C-K L-I-V-E-S M-A-T-T-E-R.” We’ve told Eliot at the dinner table that a boy died, that another man hurt him. And, trying to understand what death actually means, he sat there, quiet for a few seconds. Here, we ask ourselves as parents... Read more
I found it hard to breathe today. Maybe there was something in the air all morning, something huge and hanging in the atmosphere that brought foreboding of what was to come. A friend posts it over and over again on his Facebook wall: Christ, have mercy. And it echoes in my heart and screams in my head and makes my stomach turn sour, because all of me and all of my friend are begging Christ for mercy over all of this.... Read more
I stopped and saw the pinecones, numbers beyond numbers of them latched onto the branches of the tall tree. The pinecones will fall from the tree and plummet to the ground, where they are gathered by squirrels for sustenance, gathered by children for joy. But before they fall, I can see them, and in seeing them, I see presence among the long, withering branches. The truth about God is that His presence brings itself to us and we are never... Read more
When You were born, Your blood covered us, the huge masses of tiny people. All futures and all pasts, we were hemmed into Your baby cry, the cry of all cries, promise of all promises. Jesus, Your very fingertips held the DNA, the beginning code for all holiness. Those animals near You and far outstretched, they saw Your radiance, perhaps even the human onlookers missed. The very grassy bed You slept on rejoiced at Your touch,... Read more
Thanksgiving Day has faded into a nearby memory, but all those things we spouted gratefulness for, they are still real tokens of thanks for us today and tomorrow. And for some, family still lingers about the house, still reminding us of the meal shared around the table. Maybe Grandpa bustles about in his fuzzy bathrobe, the turkey coma floating like a holy aura around his balding head. Our day yesterday consisted of morning coffee, and a noontime meal followed by... Read more
We helped serve communion at church Sunday. It’s the kind of church that hands you the bread-body, and you dip it in the juice-blood. I said, “The body of Christ, broken for you…The body of Christ, broken for you.” Over and over again to each face. How many times do we repeat it before the mysterious reality sinks itself into our shoddy bones and weakened hearts? “The body of Christ. Totally broken. Just for you to stand here today, just... Read more
A few weeks ago, we asked for prayer from our friends , for strength in the every day dance of PhD-studying-family-parenting-without-pulling-our-hair-out struggles that are constantly before us. That evening, I had three messages, all from friends in our sunday school class offering help, kindness, words of compassion and love. I will forever give testimony to the power of community. Words like these and these, and many more filed under the Community & One Another category of this blog offer up the stories of what... Read more
We celebrated Eliot’s birthday with some new friends this year. For every birthday celebration, Eliot chooses a country to be the theme of his party, and this year he chose Jordan. Hummus, falafels, oranges and carrot sticks. Homemade hot chocolate, cupcakes with mocha icing. Vases filled with dried leaf bouquets. Something beautiful happens when you invite people into your child’s life and into your home for this type of celebration. They show up with Batman postcards and star stickers; with... Read more
It’s the theme of my heart, the struggle of waiting, the fight for a patient soul. I’ve got a patience banner hanging in the kitchen, specifically for those moments of frantic chopping right before lunch, when we’re all snapping each other’s heads off, teary-eyed from low blood sugar. The words tell me to be patient because He’s patient toward me. And in those tiny moments that expand upon themselves, it’s all pressure, and it’s our eyes watching the clock tick... Read more
Stories - with Kaitlin B. Curtice
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