Friends! I miss you guys. It’s very weird to go through a week and keep all my deep thoughts to myself. It’s probably a good practice in non-vanity. (No, every thought is not deserving of daily blog posts, fancy-pants Boyett!) I have, however, shared my thoughts with the Mister. And I wrote them down. (Take that, humility/guilt-inducing voice in my head!) I can’t tell you all how grateful I am for your prayers and notes of encouragement this past week.... Read more
A week and a half ago, prior to my grandfather’s funeral, as I ate a large family meal in the fellowship hall of the Boyett Baptist Church (no, that’s not really its name!), I encountered a third or fourth cousin, someone I hadn’t seen since my high school years when I’m sure we talked at some Oklahoma-located family reunion. She came to greet me, reminded me of her name. Then she said: “Last time I saw you, you were going... Read more
I had been thirteen for 6 days and was slow dancing with a dark haired boy at Jessica Bond’s birthday party (Jessica, *high five!* I hope you’re out there) the first weekend of eighth grade in late August. There were two ways I described myself to that Obsession-cologned boy whose hands were awkwardly holding my lower back while we swayed to “Weak” by SWV in Jessica’s backyard. He said, “So, tell me about yourself.” I said, “Well, I’m a gymnast.... Read more
If it shakes you, let it shake you; let love’s heaviness o’ertake you Let it bring you to your knees Let the world outside look on; they will tell you to get on But don’t let ‘em turn it cheap You know how sometimes song lyrics say exactly what you need a friend to whisper to you? Last week, the morning my grandfather died, I listened to Catherine Prewitt’s EP Chanticleer, Certain Hope over and over while I drove August... Read more
I’m happy to welcome my brother, Jason Boyett, here to Mama:Monk for the very first time. He’s one of my biggest life-heroes. And I’m thrilled to share him with you. PawPaw’s Last Painting A week ago today, Micha and I spoke at our grandfather’s memorial service, as I’m sure you’re aware. From her blog posts to our brother’s twitter feed to my compulsive Instagramming of old letters and photos, we all turned to social media to express our grief. We’ve known for years he would probably be... Read more
Yesterday morning my husband let me sleep while he got up with the kids (for the second day in a row!). So, at seven, Chris woke me with coffee in his hand. I sat in my bed and read this: “Be joyful in the Lord, all you lands; serve the Lord with gladness and come before his presence with a song” (Psalm 110:1) I love that: Choose joy. Come out singing. Here’s what I’m grateful for: Has anyone ever been... Read more
Yesterday after lunch, August and Chris were sleeping together in my bedroom while I cleaned up the kitchen and Brooksie snoozed in his crib. Then, I clanged something too loud (as usual) and woke my baby in the next room. There went my hour to write. So, while Brooksie ate his mac n’cheese, I sat at the table to write. Except first I read Rachel Held Evans’ Sunday Superlatives post and got caught up in this video about a little... Read more
This week my friend Sarah Bessey asked the question at her blog: What’s saving your life right now? Grief is a strange thing, isn’t it? It’s so deep and wild and untamable. And it wakes up whenever it wants to and leaves you with your face in your hands in the dark bedroom on the side of the bed while your kids in the other room watch a show (again). We all loved my grandfather. He was a special man.... Read more
I have to leave today. Noon. I’ve packed and planned. It’s been a long visit that coincided with his stroke and I have watched him shrivel. In fact, I’ve watched him shrivel for five years now. Maybe more. Of course, he’s almost 90 years old: A long good life. A life that could have been cut short in 1945—the fiery plane, the parachute crash into enemy hands. His living was always grace. I’ve packed all morning and August wants to... Read more
Today you get to hear from Erin Lane, who became my friend the first year we lived in San Francisco. Chris and I had a good nine months of hanging out with Erin and her husband before they left for the other coast, where Erin began seminary at Duke. Since then, I read everything she writes at Holy Hellions. Reading her words is not the same as hanging out with her, though. I miss this lady. And I’m glad you get... Read more
Micha Boyett
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