It’s quiet here, except for the munching of my Lay’s Potato Chips. Eliot and Travis have gone to clean out the car– #2 on my list of nesting activities to be done before August is over and baby is here. I’ve been trying to sum up what life has been like over the past few months, as if all these lessons I’m learning can’t just stand on their own as they come, day-by-day. No, I search for summation–and yet, my... Read more
I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Even with a toddler lying between us in bed, I can sleep as hard as a rock until I wake up to nurse him back to sleep. But lately with pregnancy taking over more and more parts of my body, my mind races at two in the morning and I hope upon hope that the pain shooting through my right leg goes away before I have to get up to pee again. The past... Read more
I’ve been pregnant for about 12 weeks now. Just as it was last time, my days are covered with nausea and exhaustion, and it takes my whole being to refocus my thoughts to Hope and Peace. Last Saturday, Hope and Peace came to our home for a few hours. They looked like a few of our good friends, dressed to clean and rake and encourage. It was a war-zone here; the floor could barely be seen, toys were scattered across... Read more
You can be sure that in this house, when mom’s stressed, everyone else is, too. Paper’s due tomorrow, the dishes are piled high, and there’s not enough coffee to fill my thirsty throat. I still can’t find the right person to interview for that project, and Charlie is getting his brown doggy hair all over the kitchen floor. Travis makes me laugh and exaggerates my sour attitude with sarcasm. Eliot whines more because, well, that’s what mom’s doing. So this... Read more
Throw a blanket over me. You, with the overarching assumptions and created hate. There is mockery and broken-record talk on your lips. So throw your blanket over me. I am under it with the OTHER, the THEMS, the THEYS, who protest in the streets like oppressed people would– because they are. And you are acting cold in the above-water, lifeless stream. But I need the warmth. There in the womb of reconciliation it is peaceful, and all that flows between... Read more
Toward the end of their time in Narnia, Aslan offers Digory an apple from the most beautiful tree in the land, the Tree of Youth. He instructs Digory to take the apple back home to London, to give it to his mother, and to witness her miraculous healing. Digory does just that, and over the few weeks to come she slowly heals completely and lives years longer than the family expected. Aslan brought healing and provision through an apple. A... Read more
In a few days, Summer Break will officially come to and end, and in its place, classes and work and daily schedules will suddenly appear. The summer season tends to run a little too slowly for me; by mid-July I am ready for Fall once more, itching to decorate with pumpkins and orange candles, brown tablecloths and mums. This summer was marked by much grief, much community, much Jesus… Travis and I will no longer share mornings together. There will... Read more
He is jealous for me… I inserted the Gilmore Girls disc into the Mac about 4 times, and still nothing. Black. Finally, a message popped up with an error, some weird phrase about global something or other that I’m pretty sure doesn’t really exist. You know those quiet moments of winding down, when your body just wants to sit, mindless, your mouth sipping coffee and your eyes focused on your favorite TV show? Then that still, small, sweetness of a... Read more
If I am sitting still enough and paying attention, I can feel it. Maybe the opposite of a Heartburst, it is the hand of my mind and fingers of my soul reaching into my depths, searching for treasure. It is a turning in the pit of my stomach, and it is brought on by taking in either the beauty of man’s humanity or the depravity of it. Today, I believe, it is a little bit of both. Harriet Beecher Stowe,... Read more
Monday mornings at 6 I can hear the soft, deep murmur of their voices as they speak to one another and begin to pray. It’s one of my favorite things to hear; there is stillness in the house, peace in their interaction. I pray, my face flat against my pillow, for Jesus to come and be with them, for the Spirit to fill every corner of this dwelling, for life to wash over them as they meet together. It’s so... Read more
Stories - with Kaitlin B. Curtice
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