Parenthood, disability, ethics, and the crooked way of grace
Explore this site to learn more about me and my writing, follow links to articles and blog posts I have written, learn more about the book, see my schedule of upcoming speaking engagements, and contact me. I blog regularly at Patheos, a web portal focused on religion and spirituality. Below are snippets from my recent blog posts; please click through to read more and to comment. Thanks for visiting!
Posted on May 3rd, 2016 in calling
, Holy Spirit
If God isn’t going to speak to me with a voice or in a dream or the clear movement of the Spirit, my gut is all I’ve got.
The birds are trying to tell me something. If only I could figure out what. I have a thing for birds, live ones and otherwise. I drink my coffee every morning out of a chickadee mug—my favorite from the set of four bird mugs my husband gave me for Christmas. When I’m browsing for goods [Read More...]
My good friend Sally has been traveling to the West Bank for a dozen years as a volunteer with Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT). I’m thrilled to share her story here. Sally Hunsberger used to think that as her children grew into more self-reliant teens, she would feel less conflicted about her regular trips to the West Bank [Read More...]
I need to make room for confession that goes deeper than my grimy kitchen floor and messy desk, for love that starts with the mundane work that sustains my family and my career but ends somewhere else—somewhere less cluttered, with more room for possibility.
We can help people understand what it means to live with a disability without shining too bright a beam on someone else's life story—particularly when that someone is a child either incapable of giving consent or of understanding the long-term implications of having his or her worst, most painful, and most vulnerable moments preserved online.
When an early Easter will likely dawn gray and cold, snow still on the ground and kids still sniffling, when our colorful Easter clothes will be hidden under damp wool and dingy down jackets, when the earth’s transformation from winter to spring will appear only tentatively, obscured, then what of our transformation? Perhaps an early Easter is a truer reflection of how resurrection usually manifests, faltering and barely noticeable—a slightly higher slant of light, a whiff of damp soil carried on a chill wind, a patch of grass at the yard’s edge where the snow has begun to melt. I am desperate these days for transformation, for obvious and spectacular change in body, mind, and spirit. Especially body. But tenuous and equivocal transformation may be the best I can get.