SEA.HARE

big city fear & the sea hare

So we’re living in Washington, D.C. this August. Because we love 100° heat, 100% humidity, and crowds. My daughter especially loves the crowds.  Last week we had to duck out the back entrance of a museum with a giant double stroller because she started wailing.   The offense?   “Too many orange-shirt people are coming towards us!!!” Note to self: never take Adeline on a tour that requires matching shirts. On the bright side, we have high-powered air conditioning in our free, furnished apartment.  So we spend most of our time there.  There, and in the elevator.  The elevator has been my […]

fruit-mango

Why is it good to cry?

“Why is it good to cry?” My daughter asked the question while I was driving.  Tears were rolling down my cheeks behind my sunglasses and I had hoped she wouldn’t notice. I took a deep breath. “It’s good to cry because that’s how we share our sadness with God,” I reasoned.  “We cry and then He comes to us.  And He makes the sadness beautiful somehow.” She squinted her eyes in confusion. “But He doesn’t come down to be with us, does He?” In some ways, she’s right, my four-year-old.  God came down once, in the person of Jesus, and […]

candles

laryngitis & listening for God

This past October, I wasn’t able to talk for a few days.  It was like a forced silent retreat, except I didn’t have any mountain vistas or candles or woolen throws.  And I still had to provide snacks for my children, who did not realize that I was on a forced silent retreat. All of my communication was like this odd game of charades…I made exaggerated faces, mouthed words, moved my arms…but my children just ran the other direction and cried for the iPad.  So in other words, it was awesome. It didn’t help that the laryngitis was kind of […]

We are lavishly loved.

Two or three years ago, I started making a list of things I wanted to do in my life.  It included everything from learning calligraphy to farming flowers to being in a folk band; and somewhere in the middle of that list was the phrase “make stained glass.” Earlier that year, I had stumbled upon a stained glass stand at a farmer’s market in Wilmington and had been struck by a particular piece: a large, rectangular pane the size of a kitchen window with a swirling blue sea and a very happy-looking mermaid. I shouldn’t have been surprised that this […]