I don’t understand much about Death. In fact, I barely know his face or the smell of his breath. I’ve never experienced him close enough to feel the constant hover of his shadow, but this week he’s been nearer. A friend’s mother died suddenly; my parents lost one friend to a failed heart, and another breathed irregularly in the comfort of hospice until he quietly went home. I am swimming, flailing, really, in overwhelming empathy, and it feels uncontrollable. And... Read more
Once a month, we’re pursuing sight and viewing the dailyness of our lives with fresh vision and fresh spirit. Join me by posting the link to your journey of seeing in the comments section below… Today I looked around our apartment and saw things differently. I saw toys. Lots of toys strewn in every direction. I held the army green truck in my hand and realized that lots of toys means lots of play, and two joyful boys. I... Read more
Jesus, Savior, pilot me… This past week has been rough. It’s been, perhaps, trying in more realms than I’ve yet understood. The phrase treacherous waters has been in my head. Not just here in my tiny cockleshell of a world, but out there, too, in all the trembling hearts and hands and brokenness of this land-ocean covered world. I first heard the song “Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me” at International Justice Mission’s Global Prayer Gathering. I’d never heard it, and I was... Read more
I’ve had this strange relationship with waste lately. And not just the noun, but the verb. And not just the stuff. Our apartment complex certainly doesn’t have recycling, so every cardboard box and glass bottle is thrown away with a wince. But me & waste, we go beyond the kitchen garbage. The truth is, I’m afraid of it, afraid to miss an afternoon that could be well-spent, afraid to ruin a date with the wrong movie, afraid to squander my Saturday morning... Read more
Jesus, when You told the children to come to You, I think You also knew that their tired mothers might need a little rest in their day. When You brought the children to You, You were telling their mamas, Don’t worry, I’ve got them. They’re mine. Could we ask for a better caregiver? In our fear, our doubts, we hope for the best. We pray for better outcomes, less ache, more strength, growing trust. We pray for it all, and yet,... Read more
I love that the human heart can experience a wide array of emotion. Lately, I’ve felt the inner groanings that go beyond just sadness, but go deep, and are constant, with moments of exceptional strength. They are guttural and piercing, archaic and mighty within me. It seems that war wages all around me: our theological arguments, our struggle to remain whole, our fight for belief at all cost, our propensity to bicker and bite at every opportunity, and especially, hiding... Read more
There is seeing, and there is seeing. Ann Voskamp mentions it in her book, One Thousand Gifts, and last summer when I read it, I felt like she put words to what I’d been trying to do for the past year or so. There is a way to knowingly step outside ourselves and look around us– to see our family, our friends, our community– there’s a way to take all of that in as a gift. I’ve written about it here before, when... Read more
Tomorrow I’m leading worship at our new church. 40 days, to answer your question. We’ve been here 40 days. If I could write down all the ways God’s led us in this move, my hand would ache endlessly. Still, I’ll do it someday. For now, let me focus in on one story. When we moved, my prayer, as well as my husband’s, was that we’d find a community of believers. In that prayer, my heart faintly whispered to the Father’s... Read more
Spirit, I need you in all things. All things need you. You, the streaked sunset; You, the child’s play; You, the silent lily; You, the widow and saint. Glory Son, I beg of You, Step into empty and fill. Fill void and nothing; Fill aching head; Fill sleepless stumbling; Fill threatening dread. Beaming Father, You smile, absolute. Look, still, and be joyful. Joyful in our going; Joyful in our speech; Joyful in the coming steps; Joyful in her,... Read more
I think there are a few things that follow us through life: our histories (both individual and collective) and our hopes. I suppose our histories can drag us in either direction– we can remain glued, unmoving toward any certain beginning, because there’s something that must be held on to. Or those histories can push us toward new adventures, new seasons, new everything unexpected. And there, hopes take charge, and we are ushered into the newness unashamed, unbroken, unafraid, and untethered to... Read more
Stories - with Kaitlin B. Curtice
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