Ten years ago, as a 22 year-old, I returned home from one month in Kenya and South Africa. That month I studied African cultures and religions, Liberation Theology, and generally got my mind blown by a Baptist theologian in Nairobi who looked like Yoda. Dr Waruta spoke things to me that I’m still processing. He planted the seeds in my heart that have led to almost every theological shift I’ve embraced in the past ten years. The depth of his... Read more
Welcome to Mama:Monk’s weekly Wednesday series examining St. Benedict’s Rule and what it’s teaching me about motherhood and the praying life… “No one should aspire to gain a reputation for holiness. First of all we must actually become holy; then there would be some truth in having a reputation for it…” (St. Benedict’s Rule, Chapter 4). Oh, Mr. Benedict, if only you knew! If ever there were a day in the Church in which people attempt to gain a reputation... Read more
There’s no one with whom I would rather spend 20 hours in the car (Wednesday and Sunday combined, mind you) than my husband. Isn’t it amazing that I still like him so much, especially when the back seat is full of weeping children? A sister-in-law who is willing to cut my boy’s hair for me. For the courage to chop off that mop of blonde hanging in his eyes. For the shock of almost brown(!) hair underneath and the reality... Read more
Our family has been making our Thankful Tree over the past couple of weeks. This year I was inspired by the tree (above) that I found on Pinterest. So I tried to be more crafty–ribbons and real twigs–but we all know about me and craftiness. Here’s my version. (I let August cut out most of the leaves.) So, in honor of Thanksgiving, I’m posting to you all the things that my 3-year-old is thankful for, all of which are displayed on... Read more
There are some things that are simply born in us. This weekend my baby found a music box train in his basket of toys. He looked at me with his 8 month old eyes and I knew his request. I wound up the toy until it began that metallic box sound of “I’ve been working on the railroad.” Brooksie smiled his wide mouthed smile (the one that takes up the whole half of his face) and began to rock back... Read more
There are some things that are simply born in us. This weekend my baby found a music box train in his basket of toys. He looked at me with his 8 month old eyes and I knew his request. I wound up the toy until it began that metallic box sound of “I’ve been working on the railroad.” Brooksie smiled his wide mouthed smile (the one that takes up the whole half of his face) and began to rock back... Read more
Mary, you’re always sad, looking at me from the corner of my desk, your son with his arms wrapped around your neck, his fingers spread and grasping your skin, his face pressed up to your cheek. You are always sad and he is always concerned. Look how he hugs you, one tiny pre-Renaissance-little-man-hand caressing your chest. His eyes lifted toward yours, as if he knows. (Of course he knows, you say.) You, in your robe of black, marked by two... Read more
One Monday night a month, I gather all my energy to corral the chaos of my house by 6 so that I can make it to my writer’s group by 6:30. I strive to have dinner at least in process, have some sort of food in my bag, milk pumped and in the fridge, children not screaming, and plans laid out for my husband’s next hour and a half. This past Monday, I was not too successful. Every room was... Read more
Welcome to Mama:Monk’s weekly Wednesday series examining St. Benedict’s Rule and what it is teaching me about life as a stay at home mom. “Your hope of fulfillment should be centered in God alone. When you see any good in yourself, then, don’t take it to be your very own, but acknowledge it as a gift from God. On the other hand you may be sure that any evil you do is always your own and you may safely acknowledge your responsibility”... Read more
Post-church Hohorst-famous pancakes with friends. Realizing on the way home from Writer’s Group last night that I was alone in the car and I should definitely roll the window down, turn the radio up as loud as I could stand, and sing along to Cobra Starship (“You Make Me Feel…“). A tired 3- year-old in tears at bedtime Sunday night. A husband who asks: “What do you need? What’s the matter?” The boy’s answer: “I just want to have a... Read more
Micha Boyett
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