The Labyrinth

I am the labyrinth. Keep moving. I don’t know where I am going, God. It looks like one way but ends up being another, and I turn sharply when I least expect it, and sometimes it looks like I’m going to collide with someone else – how can this be right? I am the path. … More The Labyrinth


I used to want to be not me.Various other lives looked appealing at different times, but on Sundays,I always wanted to be my pastor.I wanted to be just like her.I wanted the fancy robe, the adoration and respect I saw coming from everyone’s eyes.I wanted the hands that could bless bread, make it more than … More Manna

I Go to Sing

I might be exhausted and the children might be cranky,but I will be going to church on Sunday.Don’t know who is preaching, doesn’t matter –the sermon may be helpful or not, holds my attention or doesn’t –it’s the singing.I go to sing. I get up,get clean,get dressed,possibly get mad (at not-ready kids, at empty coffee … More I Go to Sing

I’m Dreaming

I’m dreamingof my grandmother’s house,and small me in it,running from room to room,making the huge-at-the-time circlefrom the kitchen, down the hall, through the living and dining rooms,bursting triumphantly through the magical swinging doorback into the kitchen, warm with people and cooking smells. Not the of a white Christmas kind of dreaming.The real kind,in my bed, … More I’m Dreaming


If the veil between me and God is as thin as some say it is, why can’t I see any more than I can? In days past, my awareness of God was as straightforward as sitting in a confessional. There was no question as to whether the priest was present. I experienced companionship, heard movement, … More Eclipse

The Game

This is stunning. We are actually talking about the game. The game we women have been playing forever. For ev er. Game probably isn’t the right word. Maybe “tactical, strategic approach to life” is a better term. Certainly there has never been a level playing field. Certainly the ref has been blind on purpose. Certainly, … More The Game

By Heart

Cleaning out the car after a long week. Jackets.  Potato chip crumbs.  Water bottles. A hymnal. Oh, right – a hymnal. Buried under the clutter, I forgot it was there. It must have ridden around with me all week. I put it in the front seat Tuesday. I must have moved it to the back … More By Heart


Every Christmas I am reminded of the gift that imperfection can be. I don’t mean that I look on the bright side and make lemonade out of lemons. No positive thinking or mental wrangling is required. Every Christmas I am reminded of the literal gift (“Here, this is for you!  Open it!! Isn’t it cool?  … More Imperfect