friendship

I Wrote You An Email

Libby, , , , , , 2 Comments

My dear–how have you been? Are the kids okay? I know that thing at work has been really getting to you—has it lightened up at all? I love seeing your pets on Instagram—please never stop. All our friends are having babies right now! Isn’t that great? If you’re wondering what to get all of them, this. I hope you’re finding some peace within your days. The days are getting chillier and with all the soup, boots, and pumpkin spice also come darker days so I hope you’re being proactive about preparing your mind for that. Please take care of yourself. Make a plan. Do you like this song?

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I know I haven’t written in a while but it’s not because I don’t have anything to say. I have a lot of things I want to say and I’ve been working on finding language. I’ve been thinking about a lot of unrelated things.
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Sunday Suppers at the Table

Libby, , 3 Comments

Twice a month, I go to the home of some dear friends, along with dozens of other people. And we gather along long tables and share food and talk to each other and learn about one another. There are so many different types of people in this gathering, too, and that’s the very best part. We’ve got mild-mannered, head-covered Mennonite ladies sitting across the table from a sailor-tongued, crop-topped atheist and what are they saying to one another? “This broccoli-cheese soup is so good, who made it? Do you think I can get the recipe?” Or the most commonly heard phrase, “I have needed this so much.”

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Photo: Blue Muse Photography

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The Honor and the Sacredness

Libby, , , 8 Comments

“You’ve been married for over a year now! Time to have some kids!” “You’re not getting any younger!” “When are you going to start a family?” “Oh! You got a dog? That should tide you over until some kids come along.”

There have been a few times in my life when I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what I was supposed to do and what I wanted.
When I was deciding which college to attend, I prayed for certainty and I received an illogical, deep confidence that I was supposed to go to this specific college in this specific city at this specific time. And I did that and I came away from it with a degree that I have never used and a few friends that I would gladly spend dozens of thousands of dollars to meet again.
When my friend Ryan took a long lunch break and came to my house and told me he couldn’t wait one more minute—he had to tell me he loved me and asked me to be his partner in this life and I had so many questions and so many doubts and what-if’s swimming through my mind but my soul screamed louder inside of me, “This is something big for you. Take this and protect it!”
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Everything else—I’ve just been winging it. I’ve never felt called to anything in my life.

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Virtual Book Club: The Secret Life of Bees and July Selection Announcement!

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Sorry (I ain’t sorr’) to say that this is not a spoiler free review. I guess I figure if a book has been around long enough for the movie version to be past the New Release rack, it’s all fair game.

I’ve sat down to write this review for The Secret Life of Bees so many different times and I just can’t figure out what to say. And it’s not because there’s nothing to say. It’s because how do you put words on that feeling you get when you’re broken open and speechless?

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Page 92: Rainy Days and Mondays

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It’s Monday after a weekend away.

I wiggle out of my spot as the little spoon, sit on the edge of the bed, and feel my muscles vividly because of all the fun we had together the past two or three days. Walking and walking and driving and driving. My neck, in particular, seems to be pulling in a certain  direction that I blame on the 3+ hours behind the wheel. So I stretch the other direction hoping to even it out.

I haven’t lived in this house long enough to have the muscle memory required to make it down the hall without waking everyone and so I flinch every time I hear the floor creak. My eyes catch a glimpse of movement in the other room. The cat is in my her office, sitting in the window, watching the rain droplets join each other and trail down the glass—her head bobbing up and down, following them one by one.

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