Clik here to view.
Unpacking My Faith.
I threw my backpack to the floor and flattened it with my abdomen, yanking the zipper with all my might. I was determined to make it all fit, but I was having trouble. We were leaving on a ten-day,...
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The Long, Hard Road.
I remember the conversation clearly. I remember the daylight that streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my college cafeteria to the table where we sat, our blue trays touching at the...
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What I Should Have Said Ten Years Ago
My best friend and I are sitting in my favorite Chinese restaurant, eating ginger chicken and wonton soup and cackling over bad pickup lines. The guy she chatted with at our New Year’s Eve party sent...
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When the Story Isn’t Mine to Tell
I am sitting at the kitchen table trying to write this post and my husband is in the living room, wrestling with a tangle of wires and cords, attempting to organize the octopus that is our...
View ArticleClik here to view.
It is Good : An Ode to My Body
The instructor at the front of the room arches her hands high above her head and jumps up and down in time to the music, some Top 40s hit I don’t recognize. The class dances along in pace before me...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Unpacking My Faith.
I threw my backpack to the floor and flattened it with my abdomen, yanking the zipper with all my might. I was determined to make it all fit, but I was having trouble. We were leaving on a ten-day,...
View ArticleClik here to view.
The Long, Hard Road.
I remember the conversation clearly. I remember the daylight that streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my college cafeteria to the table where we sat, our blue trays touching at the...
View ArticleClik here to view.
What I Should Have Said Ten Years Ago
My best friend and I are sitting in my favorite Chinese restaurant, eating ginger chicken and wonton soup and cackling over bad pickup lines. The guy she chatted with at our New Year’s Eve party sent...
View ArticleClik here to view.
When the Story Isn’t Mine to Tell
I am sitting at the kitchen table trying to write this post and my husband is in the living room, wrestling with a tangle of wires and cords, attempting to organize the octopus that is our...
View ArticleClik here to view.
It is Good : An Ode to My Body
The instructor at the front of the room arches her hands high above her head and jumps up and down in time to the music, some Top 40s hit I don’t recognize. The class dances along in pace before me...
View Article
