“I solemnly swear…” Her lip twitched, her eye twinkled. “I solemnly swear…” we repeated, our right hands raised to the sky, our fingers making the shape of any good scout promise. “That I…” “That I…” We giggled. We were standing around a table of pretzels and Kool-Aid. It was a summer Tuesday, one of the days we spent at the church children’s program. “Will not spill this Kool-Aid on the new carpet…” “Will not spill this Kool-Aid on the new... Read more
Farah Marklevits is a friend of mine from Syracuse. I spent three years of graduate school in a workshop with the same five poets, who taught me as much about writing as our professors. (Ours was a special group. We actually loved each other, which never happens in MFA programs like ours.) I shared many cups of tea with Farah. Her kindness and love for knowledge always inspired me. This week, I was missing her poems and pulled out the book... Read more
A couple of Sundays ago, I had a phone date with my 90-year-old grandmother, Deenie (aka “Cotton“). The boys were outside in swimsuits with Chris and a water hose and I had an hour-long window and a phone. After a week of family stomach-bug yuck, I called Deenie, cleaner and sponge in hand, ready to scrub every surface of the house while we talked. Instead, I ended up at my kitchen table, pen in hand, scribbling her words... Read more
{This Sacred Everyday} is a collection of posts about encountering God in the plain places, in the monotonous, in the daily. Today’s reflection is from Ed Cyzewski, who became my Real Life Friend recently when we met at The Festival of Faith and Writing and bonded over our shared love for all things Philadelphia. What I appreciate most about Ed is his commitment to encouraging and building up other writers in his sphere of blogging influence. He is an encourager... Read more
A month ago I sat in an auditorium at the Festival of Faith and Writing waiting to hear author Ann Voskamp speak about story and beauty. I sat among rows and rows of eager fan-ladies, all of us longing to hear the sound of her voice, hoping she would whisper secrets to us about how to live and write and live on a farm and take perfect photos with a grateful heart. Though I was not expecting Voskamp, the author... Read more
Parents who will drive eight hours and spend money on a hotel room on the way, just to stay two days with my family Riding bikes (in the street!) with August and feeling the gift of his growing up My dad and August in the backyard, sticking tiny ants under the microscope Bubbles and a baby pool in the grass, bug spray and sunscreen My mom bringing her own science experiment (baking soda and vinegar and food coloring) to make... Read more
A year and a half ago, when my son first dreamed that a walrus (yes, I said a walrus) had entered his closet and rummaged around, I could not make that screaming child feel safe again, no matter what I tried. First, I lied about my own power: Look! I have Walrus spray! I’ll just spray your closet and he’ll never want to come back. Then, I made up a story to explain it all: Oh, I talked to the... Read more
Last night, after the kids snuggled into beds and the cat (who is getting better!) ventured out of his sick room to sleep on the couch, I ate a frozen pizza from Target by myself and scrubbed the toilet and the floors. There’s something special about cleaning in preparation of something. My parents are coming for the weekend and whenever I clean for them, I remember my mom cleaning for my grandmother’s visits. It’s just something daughters do for mothers…and... Read more
Oh, friends. Are you so tired of me saying it’s been quite a week? If you are, I won’t say it again. Instead I’ll say this: I’m ready for my husband to come home. And I’m ready for my cat to stop going to the hospital. (This is when I should stop and thank God for how good I have it and for how great my kids have been this week and how thankful I am for my community here... Read more
Today we begin a new series around here. {This Sacred Everyday} is a collection of posts about encountering God in the plain places, in the monotonous, in the daily. I’m writing our first installment, but I’m thrilled that the rest of the series will be written by other writers and bloggers I admire. Look for it every Wednesday this summer. Chris is leaving the house in the dark at 5:30 am. I’m up in my drowsy state rummaging the... Read more
Micha Boyett
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