Awkward Christian
I suffer from anxiety. Early the other morning, I woke before the sun was up, as I sometimes do. I stumbled to the bathroom, hoping that would help me fall back to sleep, but when I got back in bed, my body was on fire. The stomachache that had plagued me for three days came …
Why I’m Grateful for My Anxiety for SheLoves MagazineRead More
Lately, I haven’t wanted to pray. Not even my five-minute, super-short version. I haven’t wanted to journal either, which is another way I connect to God. I’ve not wanted to do yoga, which is yet another. Haven’t been doing so much crafting the Bible, or reading my BCP on weekends. I haven’t wanted to do …
Last week, the World Health Organization (WHO) tried to take our bacon away. Or at least that’s how some news organizations first interpreted the announcement that processed meats have been classified as carcinogenic to humans. The real news was less dire, only announcing that the evidence confirms a link between colorectal cancer and certain eating habits (such as eating two …
The WHO bacon scare and a theology of enjoyment: for Think ChristianRead More
“Asking is, at its core, a collaboration.” Amanda Palmer, The Art of Asking It only took nine unsubscribes to undo me. I use some software to manage the subscribers to my blog, and if there’s activity—people signing up (yay!) people un-signing up (sigh!), I get an email. Lately, I have been sighing more than normal. …
I find rest in Esther Emery’s words–partially because I can see something of my anxious childhood in hers, partially because she has chosen to be different in a world that loves same, and also because she’s a friend of the virtual-but-real sort. I bring you her words here today with relish. I love her take …
The first time SheLoves Magazine accepted a post I’d written, I wondered if I’d made a mistake submitting it at all. Don’t get me wrong; I was proud of the essay. I’d also been reading SheLoves for a few months by then, impressed with their writers and their global outlook. SheLoves seemed like a good fit for my writing—if they’d take …
The Day I Regretted Writing for SheLoves—at SheLoves MagazineRead More
(Note: occasionally I curse. This is one of those times. Here’s why.) I want to be careful with this series. I’m worried it might get chirpy on you. “Just depend on Jay-sus!” “God is good all the time!” “Can I get an Ay-men?” I mean, those things are true. Except sometimes, their cheerfulness makes you want to …
The night before I left college, I got home late. There, at my door, I found a wrapped package: a graduation gift from Stacy, one of my closest friends from church. She’d finished and framed an exquisite cross-stitch of one of my favorite verses. The sight made my heart sink. I’d missed saying goodbye. The …
What I Wish I’d Known About Friendship After CollegeRead More
I used to have a kind of waking nightmare. It started in college. I’d be alone in the dorm bathroom, my toiletry caddy in hand, going down the aisle of shower stalls, their white plastic curtains like ghosts’ hems, all in a row. All of a sudden, the dread of what lay behind those curtains …
Are you willing to listen to the darkness? for The MudroomRead More
It feels odd to talk about easy yokes and JUSTICE together. Shouldn’t we affirm the warm, fuzzies first? Jesus will love you no matter what, that he’s a friend, a Father, a Mother, a Spirit, an everything? Oh, all that is true. But I will be honest: I don’t think there’s warm fuzzies without justice. I don’t think …
The night I almost stopped being a Christian anymore, I sat alone, at midnight, in the living room of the house I shared with three other women. I was twenty-two, almost six months out of college, depressed, and despairing. I’d discovered I was depressed in my therapist’s office the summer before. The revelation was like a pin …
The Night I Almost Stopped Being a Christian: for The MudroomRead More
The other day, I rolled out my dusty purple yoga mat in my bedroom, and stood at one end, ready to launch into my usual fifteen minute yoga routine. On a whim, I thought, why not set an intention for this practice? This is unusual. Generally, I don’t bother with intentions or thoughtfulness. I often …
My old friend Michelle came over not that long ago. She’s blonde, with streaks of aqua blue through her short cut. Ever since I first met her, I’ve admired her confidence in who she is and what she wants to do with her life. Also, she’s fat. I would not have used that word for her …
When my daughter Lucy was three, I decided to get intentional about her education. I wanted to homeschool long-term, but knew I was not an ideal candidate: I like quiet, order, and long-range projects. I also felt a little cuckoo stuck at home. With 18 hours a day to kill, I counted the days until fifth …
My child, my backpack, and the long days of motherhoodRead More
Let’s start out with a confession: Twitter terrifies me. I got my handle a few years ago. The day my friend Melissa explained to me how she manages her twitter account, makes lists, what she posts, and what a hashtag is, my heart thudded in my chest, dully as I listened. It’ll get easier, I …
Last weekend, I sent my daughters to Sunday school at church. It’s the same church where my best friend was raped repeatedly in high school. Our family begins worship together. The head pastor—not the one who was there, intentionally blind, when our youth pastor violated my friend—raises a hand of blessing over the kids. “You …
I am a creature of habit. Every morning, I browse one of my four usual advice columns as I eat two eggs, toast and tea. I tackle the same chores on the same days of the week. I love the second in a series of murder mysteries because by the second book, I know what …
The night my already-sick grandma took a turn for the worse, my husband asked if I thought I’d go to her funeral. “Oh, hell no,” I said, without thinking. He looked startled, there in our bathroom. We were getting ready for bed, letting our bodies slow down for the end of the day. But now my heart …
I Did Not Want to Go to My Grandmother’s Funeral for The MudroomRead More
I read the Bible all the way through for the first time when I was thirteen. I picked it up every Sunday after the first service at our new church in San Diego, waiting for my parents to finish with choir. I’d pull the volume off the shelf in the church library, get a chunk …
(Trigger warning—sexual abuse) My grandmother is slight, white-haired, slow to speak, and nearly lost to dementia. For a year or so now, she has been in a nursing home, unwillingly. Years ago when I would visit, she would serve me breakfast: a bowl of fresh home-grown raspberries in a white bowl, or toast with homemade freezer jam that …
When I was little, I would trail my mom to the fabric store nearly every month. It was middling in my list of errands: no toys, but the pattern books did provide some pre-Pinterest craft browsing. My mom would finger washable silk or ultra-suede, and I’d flip pages, trying to be patient. Once she decided, we’d …
Can I make a really weird confession to you? I love books. And sometimes I feel anxiety about them. I was an English major, and I’m a writer. My love of books is a huge part of why I started homeschooling. We check out dozens of books at a time from the library. We are …
This is the first in a series of three posts about boundary-keeping in the church. Namely, how do we decide who is really “Christian”, and how do those dividing lines make people feel? I recognize that boundaries, theology, and creeds are essential for deciding what we believe, and who we are. But the practice of drawing lines …
I didn’t know Jesus was with me because another Christian told me He wasn’t.Read More
“Wait, I didn’t know you had a brother and sister,” Renee said. We were in my pool. The aqua color reflected the sky canopy overhead. It was Tucson hot, not as hot as Phoenix hot, but hot enough. On the radio in summer, they counted the number of days over one hundred degrees, and it …
When Asking a Simple Question Tears Open Your HeartRead More
