There is a luxury

in never getting angry, never showing emotion

a privilege of the powerful one,

the one who treads upon,

who has never been underfoot


But the one with the foot on her throat

must get angry to fight

or slowly suffocate,

fight to be heard while

the devout one cuts off her oxygen,

lungs straining to supply logic and words

to her brain


Her anger, indignation, sorrow

is judged emotional,


a lack of control

her own damn fault

for not being content

to find a comfortable spot under the shoe


She is shamed for not appreciating

the kindly smile and loving way he

corrects her,

for making him feel uncomfortable

with her struggle to breathe.


It is exhausting

this struggle to simply be,

this hope of living in love

when there are so many eager feet,

so many vulnerable necks


So much security cultivated by controlling another person’s inhale and exhale.

December Snowfall 2018

These are the days of . . .

snow hanging heavy on the trees

wrapping up on the couch with a blanket

catching up on my reading

nothing but the sound of kids laughing

breaking the cold, damp winter silence


These are the days of . . .

lights cutting off, the hum of the refrigerator falling silent

A different silence falling on the house

And the kids jumping into a game of bananagrams

waiting on the one who is missing, my eldest, to return home

from far away, with good news

waiting on another good news


This is the time . . .

for a lot of waiting

What else can one do with 13 inches of snow blanketing the house

and trees down across the driveway?

But wait, breathing in hope, breathing out fears


My independent thinking rabble-rouser

Last night, I picked up three of my kids from the youth meeting at a local church.  The teachings are conservative, with recent discussions on women under leadership of men and election/predestination.  My 12 yo, a self-published author, jumps in the car and says “Mom, I’ve got another idea for a new book.”

“Another book idea ??!!?” I ask jokingly.  She has been working on a book sequel, a rebuttal essay on why women can TOO preach, and she writes collaboratively with her sister, Rachel, almost daily.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a title for it,” she continues.  “It will be called ‘Liberal Thoughts of a Lady.'”

A Litter of Kids on the Couch

After years of “getting by” with a broken couch, it finally occurred to me, “None of us hang out in the living room because nobody enjoys lounging on the broken couch.”  We were separating and spreading out into different parts of the house, spending less and less time together.  

Since I wanted my teens to hang out with me and each other more often during the day, we bought the VIMLE couch from IKEA.  Now, this is the scene I often come upon . . .


Yep, THREE teenagers and a dog all sleeping on the couch at the same time!

But they aren’t always asleep.


Then they fully awaken and the wrestling and squeals begin again.  The couch was so worth it, just for this.

Girl, we were THERE

at the ACT to End Racism Rally.


I am fairly sure our presence there did not benefit anyone but ourselves.

But maybe that is the place to start?  With ourselves?  Making the world a better place by continually remaking kinder and more merciful versions of ourselves.  God’s Kingdom come, baby — it has to come through us, our words, our actions, because that is how God works.  To our eyes, slowly, painfully, inefficiently perhaps but that is Love for you.  Love draws people in and includes them when it is a thousand times easier to not do so.

Getting on a bus with a bunch of strangers to travel all night and stand in our capital city with other people of faith who also traveled from afar to say we care about justice and equity was important.  To say that when one of our brothers and sisters suffers, we all suffer.

Girl, I know people can be discouraging.  It is tough when those we love and respect make choices that are not loving or respectful to others.  I too have struggled with anger and frustration, but it has not overcome my hope, a hope that grows every time I pay attention to you, your sister and your brothers.  You will change the world darling.  You have the the moral conscience, the steely, stubborn backbone and the rebellious heart to do it.

Rebellion is often viewed negatively, particularly in churchspeak.  But I, your mama, say to you, “Rebel, Girl, rebel.”  Turn over those tables in the temple.  Rebel against any authority, especially church authority, that tries to tell you right is wrong and wrong is right.  Who support immoral leaders who prey on the weak.



So what now?  What comes after this rally for us?

I’m not sure, but we’ll keep looking for opportunity to make good in this world.  Looking for the light in dark places.  Hint:  the light is often found in other people.   So is the dark.

You and me – we are full of light and dark, same as other people.  Our job is to look for that light in ourselves and shine it on our dark places.  Sometimes we need others to do it for us, and sometimes we must do that for others.  That part will be particularly unfun, but it is right.

And our faith requires it.


The odd things we hear in this house

“There is something very Pacific…” Prairie

“…You’re being a skomach!” Rachel(not a typo)

“… something about taking a doctor’s pulse and then sniffing it?” Rachel

“Now you know what it’s like to be besqozen!” Sidney

“Yes, but I don’t dig my wrists like eeee!” Rachel

“Did you just compare my fish burp to Gwyneth Paltrow?” Sidney

“They’re bootless boot verbs.” Lincoln

“Just think nature, Prairie.” Rachel

“I love the smell of toasted Calvinist.” Sidney

“Awww, she’s so sweet when she’s not trying to bite me!” Rachel

“Twilight was screaming for Daffodil, who was having trouble with Will and his oranges.” Rachel

“…so I wrapped it in elephants!” Lincoln