When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just cost us—how easily he'd blown through money I'd fought for, stretched for, hours of meal planning and cooking and trying so damn hard to make it work. I froze mid-breath. Turned. Right. And half-collapsed on the bed, my head hanging heavily between...
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Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers....
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar –...
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of...
Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil caught in divine breath – lifting, falling, dancing between what was and what might be. How does one surrender the knowing to embrace the mystery of being beheld by Love? Some days I want to pin down the floating edges, to still these billowing...
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When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers....
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar –...
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers. Yet somehow, I remained as translucent as the incense rising to the rafters. Oh, beloved, I see now the gentle irony. The same voices that penned passionate pleas for “women priests” floated past me each Sunday, their eyes searching distant...
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When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just...
Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil...
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar –...
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of...
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar – two steps forward, one step back – gaze lowering and raising in an uncertain dance of longing. The golden tabernacle gleams ahead, but the space between feels vast and laden with invisible barriers. “Am I worthy to come closer?” asks her...
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When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just...
Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers....
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of...
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks of paradoxes, it hosts both: blood and light. I see myself, and ask would God really want such a one as I? Yet here I stand, my silver cross a bridge between Moab’s abundance and Bethlehem’s dust. RUTH’S EXODUS Like Ruth, I leave the certainties...
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When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just...
Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers....
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar –...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of...
Oil and Holy Water Try rolling these words around your tongue: “Independent Catholic Female.” Feel how they clash and dance, like oil and holy water attempting to mix. For some, it tastes of rebellion, for others, of hope – a phrase that makes traditionalists choke on their morning coffee and has progressive hearts leaping like sparks from Easter fire. What does independence even mean in a tradition where communion – beautiful, messy,...
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When the Bills Came Due I burst out sobbing in the bedroom. Not the kitchen where I'd opened the correspondence. I couldn't stay there. Couldn't let my husband see what his inattentiveness had just...
Evening’s Sacred Dissolving I face my mirror in the evening’s sacred hush, where familiar contours of self begin to blur at the edges. Here, in this liminal light, I feel clothed with a veil...
The Weight of Morning Mist In the soft morning light filtering through stained glass, I stood at the threshold of our church, heart full of carefully crafted welcomes and thoughtfully woven prayers....
Am I worthy? Picture a lonely creature in the vastness of a cathedral, her feet making no sound on the cold marble floor. Like a scolded puppy seeking reconciliation, she inches toward the altar –...
THRESHOLD CALLING Standing at the threshold, draped in crimson silk that speaks of both flesh and life, I challenge my own assumptions: What does a woman called by God look like? This dress speaks...
