This month a bold and beautiful group of women step into the Mudroom to engage with us on our theme, "Race, Culture, Identity." There will be candid conversation, stories of disquiet and hope . . . and rest assured, there will be thunder. The question I must ask myself is simple: What will I do … Continue reading And You Will Hear Thunder
Uncovering shame is terrifying. Turns out it's also liberating. Click here for my confessions at the Mudroom: "In Bed with Shame"
Are you feeling the fractures? Me too. Our things . . . they are all coming up, aren't they? I'm stepping into the Mudroom this week with why it's so incredibly hard to step out (literally and metaphorically). Click here.
Dear Friends, I'm honored to offer you a collection of 30 prayers from 20 writers and ministry leaders — The Pandemic Prayerbook: A Pray-at-Home Guide for the Corona Crisis compiled by Darcy Wiley. Click here for my prayer: "Every Anxious Thought," at the Mudroom today - where you'll also have access to the whole collection. … Continue reading Pandemic Prayerbook (Free Resource)
I've had a love-hate relationship with autocorrect—on word processors, smartphones and especially with the one in my head. I'm spilling stories about both at the Mudroom today. Spoiler alert: Check out the rose metaphor gifted to me by writer-sister Chelle A. Wilson at the end of this piece (and follow the link to her wise … Continue reading Autocorrect Me
Thirty years ago, this was me - crouched and ready to throw the next role up into an unsuspecting tree. (Youthful indiscretion . . .) Now, it's still me. But I'm holding on too tightly. Seven days ago, writing about toilet paper would not have entered my wildest dreams. Neither would I have gleaned this … Continue reading Toilet Paper-Thin
A brush with true valor is a rare gift. I've been given three, and I'll never be the same. Grateful for space to tell you about them at the Mudroom (click here) this week . . . (PS: The beautiful woman pictured here is one of them . . . )
I think about Jesus — stranger and lover of strangers — and that I am his heir, also. To follow him means becoming both, too.
Talking about race is a bit like opening those school lunch milk cartons: No matter our approach, stuff spills out awkwardly. This is my experience, at least, as a member of a biracial family unit. Joining my Redbud writing sisters today in the February issue of the Redbud Post, as we tussle with the absolute … Continue reading Biracial Belonging
The holidays spilled into unexpected and unwanted territory for me this year. These first few steps into a new calendar feel less like a clean slate and more like a post-Christmas yard sale. I suspect I'm not alone. Click here for my story at the Mudroom this week.