Henry: “How old would the other children be if they were born?” Me: “I think 14, 13, 10, and 8.” Henry: “I would’ve liked the 8-year-old. We would have been buds.” I don’t know if it’s strange or awesome or awkward that all three of my kids know about our multiple miscarriages. We don’t talk … More The Lost Babies
My son is afraid I’m going to die. This fear leaks out right about the time he shuts his eyes at night. He’s worried because anything can happen. Tonight’s specific “anything” is accompanied by fear of violence and death in general. He can hardly utter the words. It makes him gasp for breath, wide-eyed and choking at … More When Fear Paralyzes, Love’s Got Legs
A couple of nights ago, my middle son came back out after being put to bed. This draws out the deepest rage from the most irrational corner of my any-spare-adult-moment mindset. “What’s the problem, Elvis?” Elvis is our brooder. Like me, it takes him long moments to formulate what it is he desperately needs to say, … More Anything Can Happen
Over a decade ago, I started scratching down the clippings of diseased rose stems and transplanted Black Eyed Susans alongside the ache and emptiness of miscarriage. The Word doc morphed from computer to computer as we moved from Ellet to South Akron to Ashland to Copley. The story kept changing and growing, from one miscarriage … More The Body Is Not a Coffin
Next week, a new series of blog posts will begin to be published on the site Off The Page, a ministry of Our Daily Bread. I am excited about this opportunity to reach a larger audience and hope that the posts are engaging, inspiring, and thought provoking– sincere and maybe even a little funny now … More Tackling Transitions
It is the end of National Poetry Month today, and while I wrote not a single poem for the month, I have been busy chiseling away at my memoir-in-essays, which has its own sort of lyricism and poetic turns, and that totally counts, right? I have done much to celebrate poetry in April, however, giving … More April Showers
“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, … More Advent Day Nine: Divorce Her Quietly
“In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, ‘Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is … More Advent Day Eight: Mary Hears from Gabriel
“Zechariah asked the angel, ‘How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.’ “The angel said to him, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. … More Advent Day Seven: Questioning Angels
My lovely blue-eyed seven-year-old daughter giggled. “Bad people go to the devil when they die,” and my charming bow-tie and button-down-shirt wearing son giggled, too, “Yeah, but we’re going to heaven because of JESUS.” I stuttered and stammered, “Well, it’s true that Jesus saves us,” I said, “but I’m not sure about the devil. It’d … More Bad People Go to Hell and Other Parental Panic Moments
