Sometimes it's from the dust and ashes that God brings blessing and even new life.
Our Imperfect Saints
Autumn makes me think of my grandmother’s pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. She’d cover them in orange buttercream frosting and then decorate the tops with Jack-o’-lantern faces using a rich cocoa icing. I loved those cookies. My grandmother sold them for 35 cents apiece at the local pumpkin festival, and they sold out every year. My grandmother... Continue Reading →
Remembering Hope
All winter I watched a neighbor’s deck lights from my back window as they glowed against the grey and cold. The string of lights stretched between tree branches above the wooden deck. Morning and evening, I watched those lights create a small space of warmth against the dark woods beyond. I suppose I needed that... Continue Reading →
What God Does with Dust
It layered itself like a fuzzy film along baseboards I didn’t often clean. It gathered on books I hadn’t opened in years. Dust marked what I liked to forget. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” the clergy would recite on Ash Wednesday in the church of my childhood. I remember... Continue Reading →
On What We Choose To Keep
Something struck me as I moved to a new home with the new year. Entering a new year, like moving to a new home, often inspires me to evaluate what does and does not go with me. I think of myself as relentlessly practical about that. Anything not used in the last year becomes fair... Continue Reading →
Anything But Gone: On An Advent with Grief
“Who was it?” I asked. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know if I ever knew.” A ceramic Christmas tree sat on my bookshelf. I’d just switched it on, and its multi-colored lights glowed. That little tree had been part of Christmastime as far back into my childhood as I could remember. It wasn’t... Continue Reading →
