I woke up in the wee hours of morning to a little girl in fuzzy gray footed pajamas clutching at my arm. "I'm scared," she said in a small voice. Bleary with sleep, I sighed and briefly contemplated sending her back to her crib. But before I could send her back, my heart took charge …
Tag: love
Deafness, and the goodness of God
The past few months have been so overwhelming I have found it almost impossible to write. I remember once reading that how women respond to the intensity of childbirth tends to be very much like they respond to other big events in their lives--some women feel the need to turn outward with their emotions and …
Thoughts about deconstruction
Joshua Harris, the hugely successful author of I Kissed Dating Goodbye, shook the evangelical world a few weeks ago when he announced he was deconstructing and leaving the Christian faith. Listening to the conversations regarding Harris (and others), I've realized that many people have misconceptions of what deconstruction actually is and how it fits into a …
From my window
From my chair at the desk, I can see the neighbor man working on one of his decrepit vehicles. J is wearing a billcap on backward, a black, sleeveless t-shirt, and saggy jeans. He looks sad as he works among the weeds. A cigarette droops from his mouth. After a while, J drops his tools …
They came for him yesterday
The social worker came for him yesterday. She stepped inside our door, and our child ran crying into the kitchen. He cried and clung to Will, his two-year-old tears saying, "Don't let them take me away!" Will picked him up, held him close, then buckled him in the car seat, and they took him away. …
The waste of love
I wake up with a dark hole of emptiness eating through my chest, and it takes me a second to realize why. My little girl is gone. The child that I loved from the minute I set eyes on her is gone. I still remember how she felt sleeping heavily in my arms that first …
Ordinary Families Can Foster
In our yard is a huge oak tree, its branches shading the sandy dirt underneath. Under the tree, a collection of spoons and cups pilfered from my kitchen litters the ground. My six-year-old daughter is the queen of mud pie production, and she takes it on herself to teach our foster children the craft. The …
Open Hands (by Victoria Miller)
I fight desperately--straining, tugging refusing to release this gift that I demand is mine. I hold on for dear life to what I crave but it slips and I feel the whiplash from my fall. I lie, face planted into the ground my fists still clenched in rage. “Give me! Give me what I need!” …
Under the Stairs, and the Storm that Wasn’t
The week after the hailstorm, tornadoes threatened to destroy Kansas. As dire weather forecasts poured in that Thursday, I moved restlessly about the house, putting things in order. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to tidy my nest—if a tornado flattened our house, it wouldn’t matter how clean the house was. But …
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Being Filled with the Holy Spirit: a personal testimony
I woke up one night last week to see the moonlight edging through the curtain in my bedroom. Unable to drift back to sleep, I decided to read for a while to get my sleepy brain to override again. So I read Simon Fry's article on Being Filled with the Holy Spirit. Guess what? My sleepy …
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arabah rejoice 