A Determined Decade

After tomorrow, when we say "she was born in the 20s," we won't mean Gatsby and flappers any more. We're here, on the crest of a new decade, and who knows what cataclysms of history we're about to face? So much is unknown, so much is out of our hands, and yet "in your book... Continue Reading →

These Shoulders

I have seen newborn eyes blinking in harsh light seeming in their depths to apprehend the mystery of ages silent, gazing wonder-struck. These eyes all-seeing ancient love unblinking. I have seen newborn shoulders— the Sharpei skin, ill-fitting velveted with palest fuzz, the palm-sized ribcage like birds' wings sheltering a tiny, sturdy, heart. Illogical contraption— padlock... Continue Reading →

Sparrow

I am so excited to announce that my second book, Sparrow: Cultivating a Sabbatical Heart, is coming to shelves near you in less than a week! What grace, that God would take a very difficult season and turn it into a blessing—not only for our family, but for anyone who needs to know that there... Continue Reading →

Catalyst for Compassion

It’s a book for people with a passion for justice. For readers who love a well-told story. For students with a hankering for history. It’s a book for folks who want their life to count, but worry it won’t. For would-be world-changers who wonder how to invest their time and energy. For those who would... Continue Reading →

The Last First Day

This past week two of my kids had their last first day of school. Our son, Joshua, is a senior. Our daughter, Abigail, just a junior, is nevertheless on track to finish a year early. No more rushing out with forgotten lunches, no more parent-teacher meetings, no more number two pencils. This year is a... Continue Reading →

Lowbrow Poetry

Yesterday I posted a poem. Most of my people aren’t poets, so I feel the need to explain. What is a poem, and why would I write one, and why would I share one, imperfect as it is? Why do I bother to read poetry when I’m not a poet—and why would I say I’m... Continue Reading →

Westminster Abbey

I try to imagine this placeempty, mid-daylamplesswith just sunlight filtering throughthe stained glassand the dry bonesdust-motes of all the Tudor kings and queenslaureates, rectors, prime ministersdrifting slowly between the grand vaultsvotives extinguished on the altarthe suggestion of petitions in the faint smell of smoke.Here Blake was said to sitand talk with ghosts.I am not impressed... Continue Reading →

Hill and Dale

We came to England for two reasons: first, that my husband could log long hours of research for his PhD, but second, that when he had finished (I use the word loosely), we could rest and recharge. Fourteen years we've been church planting, but we'll return home to a new season. This mini-sabbatical is our... Continue Reading →

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