Each year, on this day, I want my soul friends. I want to be in their house, as in days past, munching on something Drason has cooked up, sharing a couch cushion with Sonya, watching old movies or laughing as our kids bang on tambourines and choreograph others sorts of mayhem. ...
two years into this story: the pain is still real. the loss is still felt. the Lord is still good. and this face? is still remembered. We grieve fresh with the Beasley family on this two-year milestone, and we renew our commitment to serve Banebow’s...
photo credit here the fourth digit on my left hand is ringed in a halo of white gold and diamonds and i blush proud as the cashier at the grocery store names it the prettiest she has ever seen. not one hour later, tears burn hot against the backs of my eyes, pricked fresh from the...
two years old and not knowing what curiosity did to that poor cat, i steadied myself against legs of ironing board and pulled hard on the cord of a sizzling iron, no doubt expecting to climb rope up to that funny table where my mama would sway her hips and hum, doing the pressing. ...
you might be sitting across a table, exchanging nervous glances and thousand-watt grins, on your first excursion back into dating after a hard break-up … or maybe you’re having your fingers bathed in puppy breath, staring into the begging eyes that peek through the cage at a local...
at long last, tears of joy. a tiny new one whose name was chosen because it means “my joy is found.” welcome to the world: Bayo Shalom Drake Beasley born June 22, 2011 at 12:32 am 8 pounds, 6 ounces of pure muscle 20 inches loved a sweet baby boy, wrinkled and sleepy,...
photo credit here i’m a wannabe writer. i let Flannery O’ Connor short stories wash over me, attention wrapt to audiobook while i scrub dishes in the sink. i keep C.S. Lewis on the bedside table, in the very same place (and for much the same purpose, figuratively speaking)...
photo credit here there are places we can’t go – with our friends. try as we may, empathic as we may be, there are footprints that can only be tread by the soul wearing the soles. last week, on a day of blinding sun and spring breeze, a day when i could feel the pulse of new...
Dear birthday boy Bane, did you know that your birthday was really special this year? that you had a party … and all your little buddies came … and lots of other people, too … and they wore silly hats … (even your Grandmother and Grandfather...
photo credit here can we have an honest moment? can i be real, even if it’s not pretty? because this week is hard. soul-deep hard. on-my-face hard. i remember being ten years old, gangly-kneed, wide-eyed, and fearless. chasing the shadow of my older brother, doing...
happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday sweet Bane … “my Jesus, come quickly.” these words, poured from broken hearts on a hard day. grief catches in throat, stops breath, looms hard on the road ahead … but God. His word is true — even in this....
photo credit here This post, pulled from a crackling phone line in a conversation with Sonya … who, like all of us — and yet, not quite like most of us — has good days and bad. This story starts on one of the bad … i couldn’t eat my food. could not touch one bite. ...
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