The furniture is out. The windows aren't blocked anymore. I walked through my own house this weekend startled by how much sun comes into it.
Chasing the Sun
The First of September
A friend handed me a folded page in the dark this morning. I couldn't read it yet. I've been dreading this date for weeks, and someone wrote over it.
A Beautiful Bruised Capture
I superglued my heel shut last week. I didn’t plan to write that first sentence, but it’s where everything else starts, so I'll begin there. Six days ago, I was standing out on the shoals before dawn, ankle-deep in water I know well, framing a sailboat moored past the shallows with her mast running straight … Continue reading A Beautiful Bruised Capture
The Wildfire Sun: Beauty from Ashes
The sun went red because something far away was burning. The glory I was chasing was refracted grief. And I finally understood why I feel so right beneath it.
The Lion Roared
For a long time, the sun rose and set in my husband. Now I chase the light at the water's edge, and I have learned the difference between an idol and a God.
New Every Morning: 30 Days of Chasing the Light
Thirty mornings at one pier on the York River, and the sky never repeated once. What thirty sunrises taught me about mercy that's new every morning.
Writer's Growth 